


The Love of a Righteous Man

by SargentMom573



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst, Assassin Castiel (Supernatural), Destiel Harlequin Challenge (Supernatural), Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, IN SPACE!, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Romance, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25623634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SargentMom573/pseuds/SargentMom573
Summary: Five years ago, Captain Dean Winchester defied his father, Senator John Winchester. With his brother Sam, and his spaceship Impala, Dean found his place among a ragtag fleet of pirates and smugglers. Their latest mission left him with a price on his head and a scar on his heart. When a surprise attack separated him from Sam and revealed a Sith weapon, he would do whatever it took to bring his brother back – even sacrifice his own happiness.After Emperor Michael’s death broke the psychic link between them, Emperor’s Hand Castiel Novak spent years drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a barrel. Mostly sober, three years ago he found a new purpose as the Impala’s Chief Medical Officer, and Sam Winchester’s guide in the Force. And a good friend in the Impala’s gruff but kind Captain.Dean and Castiel must work together to bring Sam home alive. But when Castiel’s last mission is exposed, will Castiel complete it and destroy any hopes Dean had for a family?  Will Dean forgive Cas’ horrific purpose before it is too late? And give them both what they really want — the love of a righteous man.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 49
Collections: Destiel Harlequin Challenge 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The original summary can be found here: [ End Transmission ](https://www.amazon.com/End-Transmission-Galactic-Cold-Book-ebook/dp/B0746MQD6Y/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=end+transmission&qid=1596169580&sr=8-2)
> 
> Thanks to my awesome betas, [ dontbelasagnax ](/users/dontbelasagnax/pseuds/dontbelasagnax) and [ EllenOfOz ](/users/EllenOfOz/pseuds/EllenOfOz), without whom this would be a complete and utter mess. 
> 
> Thanks also to my oldest son for the idea of setting this in a Star Wars setting. And to the authors on the Destiel Harlequin Challenge Discord server for all their brainstorming help. They are too numerous to list but without their help this would have a lot more plot holes. 
> 
> And last, but not the least, thanks to the mods of the Destiel Harlequin Challenge. As Dean Winchester would say, "You're awesome."

THEN  
(Three years ago)

“Emmanuel Allen!” Dean Winchester hammered his fist on the door to the shack. “Emmanuel Allen!”

The door was wrenched open and a vision filled the doorway. Stubble. Blue eyes. Sex hair. 

Bluer-than-blue eyes. 

“What?” growled the sexy-as-fuck man, and his low, whiskey-over-rocks voice made Little Dean perk up and take interest. 

Not the time. 

Dean licked his suddenly dry lips. “You Emmanuel Allen?” he said, his voice hoarse. 

The man cocked his head at an angle like a bird, and fuck him, that was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen a grown man do. And there was no doubt that the man in front of him was fully grown. All he was wearing was some very soft looking gray boxers and nothing else, displaying miles of tan skin. Dean wanted to spend the next few hours just licking every inch of every delectable looking muscle. 

Not the fucking time. 

“Who wants to know?” He squinted at Dean, and all of a sudden Dean had a vision of himself kneeling at this man’s feet, in nothing but a soft, leather collar, his arms folded behind his back, head bowed as the man in front of him critically inspected him from head to toe. 

Fuck. 

Dean swiped a hand down his face, trying his best to keep up with the conversation and not fall into his daydreams. 

Now was not the fucking time. 

“Dean Winchester,” he finally spat out. “Maz Kanata said you were a medic?”

“I do not know anyone named Maz,” the man said before he tried to shut his door but Dean was quick and shoved his foot between the door and the jamb before the man could close the door all the way. 

“Maz gave me this,” Dean said as he pulled out the coin Maz gave him from his jacket and extended his palm towards the man with the coin on it. 

The man squinted at the coin on Dean’s palm for a long time before he abruptly grabbed it and pivoted into his shack. Dean nearly lost his balance and tripped over his own two feet when the man released the door. 

Of course. 

It had nothing to do with the fact that Dean finally got a good look at the man’s magnificent ass. 

Not at all.

“Come in and shut the door,” the man growled before he started puttering around what looked like the kitchen portion of the shack. 

Dean did his best to keep his eye on his erstwhile host (not like that!) while he tried to check out the shack. There was only the one door he came in through and one window each in the middle of the other two walls of the shack. The back wall was missing, instead the shack’s walls just ran right into a dark cave that had what sounded like a small stream flowing through it.

Allen, because that had to be the man’s name, took a small kettle and headed to the cave. There were some green glow-in-the-dark-plants there because now that his eyes were not blinded by the sun, Dean realized that the cave was not pitch dark. 

Allen shuffled back to his kitchen and put the kettle on a hook, then swung it into the fireplace. He crouched in front of it and proceeded to poke at it, trying to coax some small flames from the coals in the hearth.

Dean yanked his gaze from the enticing view of Allen’s impressive back muscles and the way the gray boxers clung lovingly to his fine ass.

Again. Not. The. Time. 

A bed was shoved under the window to his right, with a wooden chest shoved at the foot of it, and a small table and a single chair under the one to his left. The kitchen area began on the other side of the table, with yet another table that had a basket that looked like it contained the man’s pots and dishes. Beyond that was the hearth in the corner where the wall met the mountain. 

Dean did his best to keep his host in his peripheral view since he didn’t want to piss the guy off. 

Allen was still puttering about the kitchen table, pulling jars off the small shelves above it and dropping some of the ingredients into a bowl. He poured the hot water over them and finally turned around to squint at Dean. “You don’t look sick,” he said. 

“No, no. I’m not the one that needs your doctoring.” Really, Dean had to get it together. If every time the guy so much as looked at Dean, he became this incoherent, he was not gonna last the day.

Allen tilted his head to the side again, and fuck him, but Dean was trying real hard here and Allen was really not helping at all. 

“It’s my brother that’s in need of a doctor. He’s got headaches and, well…” Dean was not sure how much to tell the guy. Not everyone was disposed to take kindly to Force Sensitive individuals. “If you come with me, I can show you.” 

Allen turned around at that and carefully poured the hot liquid into a cup he took from the basket on the kitchen table. He turned back around and offered the cup to Dean. “Tea?” 

No, he didn’t want any fucking tea. His thought must have shown on his face because Allen pulled the cup back to himself and took a careful sip, his bluer-than-blue eyes never leaving Dean’s.

“Look man, can you just come with me?” Dean Winchester had never begged a man in his life and he wasn’t gonna start now. 

Allen continued to sip his tea. 

Dean stayed where he was, his eyes snared by the blue eyes across the room from him. Allen didn’t move any other other muscles except the ones he needed to sip his tea. 

Eons passed. 

Dean had never been one to wait for people. But if what Maz had hinted at was true, the guy would be the only way Sammy was ever going to get better. 

If it took a staring contest, then Dean was willing to play along. 

Sammy was the only one that mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

NOW

They had no choice but to deal with the Hutts. 

The Hutts were usually willing to pay lavish amounts for the things they wanted. It was just that sometimes Dean had to drop his cargo. The people who hired smugglers and pirates didn’t really understand that, the Hutts being a case in point. 

After all, John Winchester may be Senator of Kansas but outside Kansas, not too many people knew his name. 

In the circles Dean ran in nowadays, proclaiming himself to be related to any senator was more likely to get him blasted in the face than anything. Well, he was not gonna lie to himself. In his new circles, being blasted was a possibility at every turn. 

But information didn’t come cheap and the kind of information he was looking for rated premium prices. 

He landed the Impala on Dantooine once he received the all clear, lowered the ramp and powered down the ship. 

“Baby,” he said to his droid, official designation 8A-8Y, as he walked out of the cockpit, “keep an eye out, will you?”

The droid chirped at him. 

“Sammy, Cas and I are gonna go see the Hutts. Be careful and have the ship ready to leave.”

The droid chirped at him again. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He gently patted the rounded top of the droid. “You guys ready?” he asked Sammy and Cas as he neared the front of the hatch that opened to the ramp. 

Emmanuel Allen, whose real name turned out to be Castiel Novak, of all things, gave him a single-fingered salute. Dean laughed. For a grumpy guy, Cas sure had a dry sense of humor. 

Sammy smiled and tossed his long, luxurious hair. “We’re all loaded up,” he said sincerely. But then Sammy always did everything quite sincerely. 

Cas jumped onto the small land rover laden with their goods and guided it down the ramp. Sammy and Dean followed him on foot, hands on their blasters and eyes peeled for any trouble makers. 

Outside the hangar, Dean made a deal with a speeder rental and soon they were tooling along towards the Huttese palace. 

Dean may not be Force Sensitive like Sammy and Cas but he had a bad feeling about this. 

They arrived at the Hutt’s palace without any problems. At the door, Dean allowed the camera to take a good look at his face. Sure, there were other devices pointed at them right now, including some blasters but Dean wasn’t worried. The best thing about dealing with Crowley for the last five years was the understanding between them. Crowley had yet to go back on his deals with them, and for a Hutt, he was quite the gentleman. 

Dean concealed his wince as the metal doors screeched on tracks that needed to be oiled. Dean carefully maneuvered the speeder through the doors and into the parking slot the twi’lek directed him to. 

Cas and he waited with the speeder while Sammy hopped off and followed the twi’lek, who gestured at yet another land rover. Sammy drove it up to them and they transferred their goods to it. They followed the twi’lek through the palace grounds. 

When they finally arrived at the door to Crowley’s Main Hall, the twi’lek took a moment to confer with the guards on duty. Dean gave Cas a sharp look that silently told him to stay with their cargo. Cas nodded back at Dean, his face stoic but his eyes ever roving. 

The twi’lek beckoned to them, the guards scanned them and then they were allowed entrance into Crowley’s Main Hall. Deals were being made in corners and alcoves of the dark and dusty hallways but Dean focused his eyes on the back of Sammy’s head. In a place like this, making eye contact with a being could get you shot and he’d like to get out of here in one piece, thank you very much. 

Surprising the fuck out of Dean, Crowley immediately cut short the conversation he was having with one of his men and gestured them forward. The twi’lek began to announce Crowley in a grandiose fashion while Crowley just rolled his eyes. Must be a new guy. 

When they were first introduced, Dean was surprised to see a humanoid in Crowley’s position. Most of the Hutt bosses he worked with were of the species. But Crowley was crafty like a Hutt and Dean had heard rumors that he was also raised by the Hutts. Dean didn’t know most of the details and he preferred it that way. 

Crowley was a short humanoid, might even be fully human, but his presence permeated every nook and cranny of this joint. 

“Squirrel and Moose!” Crowley said expansively, “Hello, boys”. 

If Dean were to guess, he would say Crowley was unhappy to see them. But they had the goods Crowley wanted. Why would Crowley be unhappy to see them? 

“Crowley.” Dean nodded at him while taking in the cotiere that surrounded Crowley. At any given time, there were a bunch of beings milling around the throne-like chair Crowley liked to sit in. Crowley had embraced the Huttese propensity to ostentatiously display their wealth. Dean didn’t know how much was Crowley and how much was the Hutts’ upbringing but for such a short humanoid, Crowley wore his ostentatiousness with pride. 

Crowley was dressed in a dark suit as usual, probably black, with no weapons showing. At least not where Dean could see one. That didn’t mean he didn’t have one on him. Crowley could be sneaky like that. 

Dean reached towards his jacket, and suddenly every blaster in the joint was out and pointed at him. 

“Was just gonna show your boss here the goods, fellas.” Dean said, a smirk firmly on his face. 

Crowley just smirked back at him. Then waved his hand at the crowd. Every blaster disappeared. 

“I’m just gonna go into my jacket,” Dean said out loud for the edification of the trigger happy bastards in the crowd. 

He reached in and pulled out the bar of platinum he’d slipped there before they left the Impala. Crowley’s twi’lek came forward and Dean handed it to him. The twi’lek handed it off to another guy who probably would test it to make sure Dean brought the right goods. 

There was some sort of a commotion behind Crowley’s throne but Crowley was relaxed so Dean didn’t think they were in any trouble here. 

Small talk, however, was something Dean was a master at. 

“How’s tricks, Crowley?” Dean said, and heard at least three growls behind him. Dean wasn’t worried though. While he wouldn’t trust Crowley, or any of the Hutts for that matter, he did know how Crowley operated. The humanoid preferred information to physical goods but still did a brisk job of dealing in both. 

“Would you like to find out for yourself, Squirrel?” Crowley flirted back and, ew, no, just no. 

Something of his disgust must show on his face, but instead of being angry, Crowley just laughed in delight. 

“I’ll wear you down one of these days, Squirrel, you’ll see.” Crowley fucking waggled his eyebrows at him. The beings around his throne-chair were confused. But Dean and Crowley had played this game for the last five years, and something in Dean relaxed just a bit. 

Whatever was making the hair at the back of his neck stand up and pay attention was still there but it wasn’t as bad if Crowley could still fall into their usual bordering-on-sexual banter. 

The guy returned and murmured something into the twi’lek’s ears. And then the twi’lek shuffled to Crowley and bowed his head to whisper in Crowley’s ear. Crowley nodded curtly to the twi’lek, who shuffled off to the side, rummaged through something in the gloom and emerged with a chip in his hand. 

The twi’lek handed Dean the data chip and then shuffled back to Crowley’s side. Still aware of all the trigger happy folk in the joint, Dean made a motion towards his jacket again and Crowley waved at everyone again. Dean carefully placed the data chip in his pocket and zipped it. If he had to run out of this place, he didn’t want to have to worry about losing all that money. 

He made a half-hearted bow in Crowley’s direction, and said a simple, “Thanks, Crowley.”

He’d nearly turned around when Crowley spoke again. “I thought we were friends, Squirrel.” He sounded sad and that set all the alarms Dean had tamped down to start clamoring again. 

Dean turned back to him, and said, “Crowley, we were never friends. And the sooner you realize that, the better it will be.” 

Crowley just nodded at him, and said, “Give my regards to the Senator.” 

And fuck, no. 

No. No. No. 

Dean felt Sammy bristle at his side. Crowley said that out loud. 

As far as he knew, no one knew about their background. And that was how the pirates and smugglers that they ran around with preferred it. No one asked where you came from because everyone was running from something. And Crowley just pulled out the biggest secret of them all. 

And now all the blasters were back on them again. Probably every single one of them in the joint. 

Why would Crowley out them like this? That was quite atypical for the guy. If he had come across the information somehow, he would have used it to his advantage, sold the information to the highest bidder. 

A clatter of armor behind him made Dean turn around to see a bounty hunter saunter up like he owned the joint and stand next to him. He was dressed in a full shiny Mandolorian suit, but unlike most Mandolorian warriors, his helmet was not on his head. And when Dean recognized the man, it took all of Sammy’s strength to keep him from going for him right then and there. 

“Gordon Walker.” Dean spat out the name with all the hatred he felt for the man. 

“Long time no see, Deano.” Gordon smirked. 

Dean had known Gordon Walker since they were kids together on Kansas. The son of their gardener, Gordon always had a mean streak to him. When they were children, Gordon had delighted in teasing the other kids on their estate until they cried. When he grew older, he took to hurting them not only physically but also mentally. All in all, Gordon Walker being here was not a good thing. 

Crowley, bless his heart, decided to stop this train wreck by putting his two cents in. “So you do know this bounty hunter. He had an interesting tale to tell.” 

Dean barely took his eyes off Gordon and nodded at Crowley. Crowley was not the problem right now. Actually, Crowley might have a bigger problem on his hands right now than he realized. 

“What do you want?” With a monster like Gordon, it was best to get down to business. 

“What? I can’t come see an old friend?” Gordon smirked again. 

“We were never friends, Gordon,” Dean bit out. 

There was only one reason why John Winchester’s attack dog was here, and it was not to have a friendly chat. 

“See Deano, that is where you are wrong,” Gordon drawled. “We were friends but then you got squeamish.” And he gestured towards Sammy. 

“You stay the fuck away from Sammy. You touch a hair on his head, I swear they won’t even find your molecules,” Dean growled.

There were a lot of things he had done in his life that he was not proud of. But keeping Sammy safe from John Winchester’s brand of crazy was not one of them. 

John had Dean so well trained that all John had to say was “Jump,” and Dean would only ask, “How high, Sir?”

All that changed though, the day John ordered Dean to prove his loyalty to him by killing Sammy. The abomination, John called him. 

The baby brother that Dean had raised as his own from the time he was four years old. The smartest kid on the estate and the kindest, gentlest soul he’d known until he met Cas. The child his mother had put in his arms when he was four, and said, “Big brothers protect their baby brothers.” 

Dean had taken Sammy and run to Bobby, who had at one time been their Security Chief and the closest thing to a father that Dean ever had. 

In his peripheral he noticed that Crowley waved his hand and all the blasters were put away. 

Gordon looked around, confused.

“Gentlemen.” Crowley nodded at Sammy and Dean, and walked out of the Main Hall, his business here done. 

And really, Dean didn’t expect any help from Crowley. 

But looked like Gordon did, because he had the nerve to shout, “Where are you going?” toward the departing Crowley. 

Crowley turned around and finally pulled out his criminal mob boss persona. “I have other things that need my attention,” he said before he dismissed Gordon again and walked off. 

Gordon growled, and looked like was seconds away from trying to go after Crowley when a large individual, larger than even a Wookie, stepped in front of him. Gordon looked at him for a second, and then turned back to Dean. “This isn’t finished, Deano.” He waged a finger in Dean’s face. 

“Actually,” Dean said, “you are done here.”

“I’ll be back.” Gordon spat at Dean’s feet, then walked off in the same direction they had originally entered the Main Hall from. 

The twi’lek shuffled forward, and said, “Crowley would like you to join him in his office.”

Now, Dean had been coming here going on five years and had never been invited to Crowley’s office. Must be really bad if Crowley didn’t want to talk to them in his throne room. 

“Lead on.” He gestured and the twi’lek shuffled off. Dean looked at Sammy who nodded his head at him. Sammy had been quiet this whole time. But then Sammy was Force Sensitive and probably already knew Gordon was there the moment they entered the palace. 

When they reached a plain, unmarked door, the twi’lek knocked once. At some signal that Dean couldn’t decipher, the twi’lek opened the door for Sammy and Dean. They slipped in and the door was closed behind them. 

Surprising the fuck out of Dean, the decor was a far cry from the ostentatious Main Hall. Crowley’s office was all clean lines and neat stacks of things while the walls were draped in a dark red velvet with sconces high up giving a warm glow to the room. 

Why Dean was surprised, he didn’t know. Crowley was not the kind of being to show his hand to anyone. 

Behind a desk that looked like it was made of real wood, sat Crowley, a cut-glass flagon in his hand, pouring an amber liquid into three real glass snifters. 

Crowley waved them toward the matching chairs in front of his desk, stoppered the flagon and placed it on a credenza behind him, before moving out from behind his desk with two of the snifters in his hands. 

“Thought you might need something,” Crowley said as he handed them off to Dean and Sammy. 

“Thank you,” Sammy said, ever the polite gentleman as they sat down in the comfortable chairs. Missouri Moseley’s decorum classes had never really penetrated Dean’s thick skull.

“So, Senator Winchester of Kansas,” Crowley said as he reached back for his own snifter and then leaned back against the table. 

“Yeah,” Dean said, then took a sip of the drink to shut himself up. That was some good bourbon sliding down his throat like silk. 

Crowley waved at them with the hand that held the snifter as an indication to go on. 

Dean looked at Sammy and nodded. Sammy had always been better at the polite chit chat that this situation called for. 

“He’s our dad.” 

Dean snorted into his drink. 

Crowley did nothing to hide his surprise. “And why does the Senator have a warrant out for Squirrel’s arrest? And a bounty on your head, dead or alive, Moose?”

“Huh. That’s a new one.” Sammy looked at Dean again. 

Dean nodded. No point in keeping it a secret any longer. Crowley was going to continue digging for the information about this sooner or later. Probably best if it came from them. 

“Probably because Dad told Dean to kill me. And instead Dean took me and ran to our ex-Security Chief, who then introduced us to the Hutts.”

“And why does dear old Dad want you dead? Hmmm.”

“None of your business.” Dean piped up.

“Dean.” Sammy admonished. 

“Well, it ain’t.” Dean sounded belligerent even to himself. 

Crowley looked at him with sympathy. Ew, that might be worse than the flirting. 

“Maybe, but if he knows then he might be able to help us,” Sammy countered. They’d had this conversation many times. Dean refused to trust anyone, except for Cas, with Sammy’s secret. 

If people knew what Sammy was, that he was an even stronger Force Sensitive than Cas, that Cas had been trying to help him hide his powers for the last three years, they would be hunted from one end of the galaxy to the other. And Dean didn’t think that Sammy could live like that. Hell, Dean still had dreams of a nice house on some planet somewhere and some rugrats. And Sammy had always been a bigger “home is where the heart is” guy than Dean. 

But at the end of the day, if Sammy thought they could share this information with Crowley, then that was up to him. Dean would protect him to his last breath, regardless. 

Sammy took in a deep breath. “I’m Force Sensitive.” 

Apparently, Crowley didn’t expect that. His eyes were wider than Dean had ever seen them as he choked on the drink that he just took. He coughed a few times to clear his throat and looked at both of them like they were pulling his leg or something. 

“You’re serious?”

They both nodded simultaneously.


	3. Chapter 3

They had a new job. 

After the information about the bounty John Winchester put on their heads, Dean and Sammy decided it was best to continue doing their jobs. 

Knowing that John Winchester had a bounty on their heads was good. 

They now knew to be even more careful. It wasn’t that they hadn’t been careful. They had been, but it had been five years since they ran away from the guy and they may have become somewhat complacent. 

The blow was hard on both of them but unlike Sammy, Dean didn’t want to talk about it. 

“But Dean—” Sammy began. 

“Not now, not ever,” Dean said. 

Sammy huffed and crossed his arms across his chest, giving Dean his patented bitchface. 

After their conversation with Crowley, they dropped off their goods with Crowley’s twi’lek and returned back to their ship as soon as possible. 

Sammy already had another job lined up for them, so they’d said goodbye to Dantooine as soon as they could get into the atmosphere. 

There was no reason for them to stay. Dean had hoped to check out one of their entertainment establishments. Maybe some drinks would have mellowed the burn of the information that Crowley gave them. 

Instead, they were sitting around the table in their mess hall. It was the largest room in the Impala, and as such served as their pantry, kitchen, and general meeting room.

Dean made them all some protein burgers to eat. For once, they all sat down at the table like civilized beings and ate their dinner. 

“Fine,” Sammy said, and grabbed his platter full of re-hydrated vegetables and his drink, and stormed out of the mess hall. 

Cas watched him go, then turned back to his dinner. That was the one thing Dean liked about Cas. Unlike Sammy, he didn’t nag Dean about discussing his feelings. He just continued chewing his protein burger. 

“So, Sammy has another job lined up for us. Medical supplies this time, on Barmoral.” 

Cas just winced. 

“You okay there, buddy?”

“I will be, once Sam calms down. He is projecting very loudly right now.” 

Dean put his fork down. He didn’t have the same Force Sensitivity that Cas had but he knew what he was talking about. Sammy could be a very forceful projector if he wasn’t careful. 

When they were younger and Sammy would crawl into bed with Dean, Dean knew he wouldn’t get any sleep that night. Because, and he didn’t know this at that time, Sammy would project all his nightmares outward, and Dean would get swamped in the wash.

“I’ll go tell him to cool it.” Dean shoved his chair away from the table and stood up. 

But Cas just waved him off. “No, that’s fine.” 

“That’s not fine.” 

Cas got the look on his face that told Dean that he was communicating telepathically with Sammy. 

“I talked to him,” Cas said after a while. He spaced out again. “Yes, that’s much better.”

Dean sat back down and tackled his protein burger. It was not really a burger, like they used to have on Kansas. It was mostly just processed protein cubes but he planned on enjoying every bite of it. They finished their meals in a contemplative silence that was only broken by their chomping on their burgers and sipping their supplement-laden waters. 

“So, about the job,” Cas prompted after he’d decimated his burger and vegetables. That’s another thing that Dean found fasc…interesting about Cas. He enjoyed his protein burgers like Dean. But he also enjoyed vegetables like Sammy did. 

“Right. We might have to do some thinking about the plan. But I think we can take care of it if we can rope Charlie in.”

“Charlie?” Cas tilted his head, and boy howdy, that was still the most adorable thing Dean had seen in his goddamned life. 

“Yeah, breaking and entering into a fully secured medical facility on a Sith planet might need the help of a hacker. And Charlie is the best. Even better than Sammy.”

Cas nodded. “So what is the plan?”

As they discussed the plan, Dean relaxed into what he did best: tactical planning. The only other thing better than planning a job was working on the Impala. 

Which reminded him, he needed to have the computer do a full diagnostic on the engine before they headed to Barmoral.

After their discussion wound down, he and Cas parted ways. 

Cas was probably going to do some doctoring for Sammy. While none of them were physically hurt, Cas didn’t only help Sammy with physical ailments but also with the psychological. 

Dean simply didn’t have the skills to help with that. Dean may have been a little bitter at the beginning when Cas came to them and Sammy followed Cas around like a puppy, but Dean had mostly come to terms with it. 

Each of them had their own specialities, and right now, Sammy needed Cas’ brand of mojo more than Dean’s. 

Dean headed towards the engine room. He always felt better when he had the Impala’s innards to work on, anyway. 

And while he might not want to talk about his feelings out loud with Sammy, he was self aware enough to understand himself. He knew that if he just brooded about this, then it was more than likely to come out when he least expected it. And he really didn’t want to hurt Sammy. Or Cas, for that matter. 

The Impala’s engine room served as his very own personal shrink and he was more than willing to take advantage of the fact. 

Before Dean began to tinker with the Impala though, he needed to find a quiet place to set her down, so he headed to the control room and set the computer to finding them a stable enough planet where they could set down and relax for a couple of days while the computer did a full diagnostic on the Impala. 

While waiting for the computer to finish its search, Dean decided to call Charlie. 

Charlie was the tech wiz in the smuggler/pirate community. He wasn’t sure what she was hiding from and he was never gonna ask.

“Greetings, Handmaiden,” Charlie chirped when the call connected. Her smirk was firmly in place and her eyes were twinkling. 

Dean grimaced. “That was one fucking time,” he whined. 

“Whining doesn’t become the Handmaiden to the Queen of Moondor.” Charlie smirked, and they shot the breeze for a while. Charlie and he had a very sibling-like relationship. To be truthful, she had become the sister he never really realized he needed. 

“Barmoral?” she asked. He could hear the keys on her keyboard clacking as she went to work. “Why Barmoral?”

“Yeah. We have a job.” 

“Duh.” She took her eyes off her keyboard for a moment to glare at him. Yep, just like a sister. “Barmoral is a Sith stronghold. Why would you want to go there?” 

“From what Sammy says, the medicines that we need for the job are made there. You’ll have to talk to him.” He shrugged. Sammy did a better job of keeping track of details of their jobs than he did. He was more the big picture guy. 

“Okay. So, get in, grab the meds, get out?” 

“Yeah. Can you help us?” 

“Sure, Give me a couple of days.” 

Dean nodded. Jobs like this could be very difficult to carry off, which was why he went to Charlie. If there was anyone who could help them, it would be her. Or Ash, but he didn’t want to go to Ash yet. Ash may be an even smarter guy than Charlie but he was not all that dependable. 

“We’re gonna set down somewhere and rest for a couple of days. Give me a heads up when you’re ready with the info.”

“Will do, jerk.” 

“Bitch,” Dean replied without thinking about it and received a bitch face to rival the worst of Sammy’s bitch faces. 

Dean laughed as he thumbed off the connection and jumped out of the seat with a spring in his step. Charlie was gonna help them plan this thing and he would spend two whole days with his brother and his best friend on a planet. 

This was the life. 

He headed toward the back of the ship and to the Impala’s engine room. 

***  
They ended up on a small backwater planet that reminded him a lot of Kamino, the legendary sea world. They set down on one of the shores that the computer deemed safe to land on. Sammy took off with the recorder as soon as the hatch was open to see what he could find in the way of fresh fruits and vegetables. And if they were very lucky, hopefully some small animal or fish for their dinner. Fresh meat had a completely different texture and flavor than protein cubes which was what they usually stocked in their pantry, since they lasted forever. 

While Sammy was gone on his gathering and hunting excursion, Cas helped him set up their camp by setting up their tents. 

Dean loved the Impala. John had gifted her to him as a birthday present when he turned sixteen. But even Dean wished for fresh air once in a while. 

Baby toddled around their camp, chirping comments about everything. 

While Cas was setting up their tents, Dean foraged for and found some nice rocks under the trees that lined the beach where he set down the Impala. He set up the larger ones in two concentric circles, then filled in the inner one with smaller rocks that he planned on heating with his blaster. They would serve as both their cooking fire and a source of heat, if the nights on this planet got cold. 

Tents set up and fire pit all set, they now just needed Sammy to return with their food. 

With an unspoken agreement, both of them settled down on folding chairs Dean pulled from the Impala, and shot the breeze as the sun rose higher into the sky. 

Dean did his best not to stare at his best friend but it was hard enough when they were busy. When they were like this, nothing to stress about, nothing to keep his attention, it was much, much harder. 

The man was fucking gorgeous. Dean thought that when they first met and the intervening three years hadn’t changed his mind about the guy’s beauty at all. 

Dean remembered the first time he laid eyes on Cas’ tousled hair and the bluer-than-blue eyes. Threw him for a loop, Cas did. 

But Dean never made a move. 

First, because Dean didn’t want to give the guy a disgust of him. He’d needed Cas then to help Sammy who had been deteriorating fast with the strain the Force had been putting on his mind. 

But as the years went on, and he learned more about Cas’ life and what he had been through, Dean didn’t want to be yet another person who put their needs before Cas’. 

Wasn’t easy to keep his feelings behind lock and key. But just as Cas had taught Sammy techniques to keep him from broadcasting, Sammy taught them to Dean. And so, in addition to keeping his feelings to himself verbally and physically, he had also taken to shielding himself from Cas. 

Made for some hairy situations in the beginning, but Dean corralled most of his feelings under control most of the time now around Cas and that had become their new normal. 

Being able to shield had also allowed them to become best friends. Dean didn’t remember a time when he was best friends with someone he also had the hots for. 

It was nice. 

Did he want more? Yes, yes, he did. Boy, did he want more. 

But was he going to make the move on Cas first? No, no, he wasn’t. 

Because, and this had been a sticking point with Sammy too, Dean thought Cas could do better than him. 

Cas deserved to live the life of luxury he was denied when he was taken as a small child, put in the Sith Academy and trained to become an assassin. 

Cas deserved the best in the galaxy. And as Dean damn well knew, he was not the best…at anything. 

He was barely keeping the Impala flying, barely held her together with duct tape and his prayers to whatever beings out there were kind to poor ship’s captains. 

Sammy and him didn’t really have a home anymore, unless he counted the Impala. Bobby might let them lay low on Sioux Falls, for a few days, if he was feeling kindly. And now, goddamned John Winchester had made it more difficult. 

Dean simply didn’t know what they were going to do. 

A warm hand on Dean’s reminded him that he was with a Force Sensitive and should tighten what shields he could. He didn’t need to swamp poor Cas with the stupid storm of feelings that John’s actions had created in him. John had nothing to do with this. 

Dean smiled at the man. Cas still hadn’t told him what he was or what he used to do, not really. But over the years Dean had gleaned enough information to understand that the man never had a childhood. 

Dean shook the cobwebs out of his mind with a vigorous shake of his head. 

“Thanks, Cas.”

“Are you well?” 

“No. Not really.” 

“If I can do anything to help, please let me know.” And after all horrible things he’d seen (and probably done) in the galaxy, Dean was still surprised at how polite Cas could be when he was not being grumpy. 

“You ever been to a planet with a sea shore, Cas?” Dean changed the subject. 

Cas had the most stoic face Dean had ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

His eyes, though. His eyes gave a small hint at what he was feeling, and right now they were telling Dean that Cas suddenly went to a not-so-happy place.

Well, that would never do. 

“Do you have swimming trunks, Cas?” Dean asked. He’d changed into his swim trunks the moment he’d landed the Impala. He was not going to spend any of his time here in his usual clothes if he could help it. 

Cas gave him a baleful look and Dean laughed again at the grumpy man. Cas sure didn’t have the cheerful attitude of the medics Dean grew up with on Kansas. 

Dean once asked him why he’d decided to become a medic. Cas had given him a similarly baleful look, and said, “I was trained as an assassin, Dean.” And that was how Dean found out that he had brought an assassin on board his Impala. And an assassin trained by the Sith no less. And Cas had been the best of the best.

There were times when that knowledge had come in handy. Cas was an overall handy man to have on his ship, and on their missions. 

But Dean understood the other side of the coin as well. The first night Cas had stayed with them, Dean had stayed up guarding Sammy, understandably wary of the stranger on their ship. Cas, as far as Dean could tell, didn’t really sleep but when he did, his nights were plagued with nightmares the sounds of which made the hair stand up on Dean’s body in primal fear. If that was how Dean felt getting that from Cas second hand, he couldn’t really imagine the actual life the medic had lived before Dean met him. 

Which is why Dean had made it his (second) mission to treat Cas like he would treat any other normal being. He made it a point to treat Cas, not like the elite assassin he had been but as someone who was his friend. 

Because in a way, he did understand why Cas had decided to become a medic after he quit the assassin gig. (Although did any assassin really quit?) 

This was Cas’ penance, the way to wipe out some of the red from his ledger. 

Dean had red on his as well and so understood where Cas was coming from. However, now was not the time for deeply philosophical thoughts. 

Dean waggled his eyebrows obnoxiously at Cas. “Go put on your swimming trunks, Cas. We’re going swimming.”

“Dean, we have no idea what kinds of contaminants might live in this ocean.” Cas tried to object to Dean’s plan for the day but Dean waved him off. 

“Go put on your swimming trunks. I’ll have Baby do a check on the water for your contaminants, okay?” 

Cas gave him yet another baleful look before he heaved himself out of the chair he was slouched in and headed back to the Impala. 

“And bring us some towels.” Dean hollered to his back. Cas only replied with a thumbs up, his powerful thighs taking him away from Dean. But what a view! 

It had taken a while for Cas to relax around them. Dean and Sammy usually just wore thick pants and thermal shirts on the ship. They tried to keep the Impala just warm enough for their human constitutions. 

When they first brought Cas on board, he’d worn this weather-beaten tan long coat that covered him from head to toe. He’d kept it on all the time. Dean had thought he was just cold all the time. Until Sammy had asked him to consider the fact that the medic might not have any other clothes, taking Dean back to the day that he’d first met Cas. 

When they finally convinced Cas to pick out his own clothes on a warm, dusty planet, he’d chosen what Dean had taken to calling his whoring clothes. The tunic was white and almost see through. While it covered almost all of Cas’ upper body, it didn’t leave anything to the imagination. It clung lovingly to the muscles on his chest and his back, and basically Dean had to take cold showers anytime he so much as glimpsed that goddamned shirt out of the corner of his eyes. 

The pants were no better. The only thing good about them was the fact that they were black, and thus, could be used for a variety of jobs. On Cas, however, the pants were obscene, and like the shirt, clung lovingly to all his muscles, including his very fine ass. 

When Cas came out of the shop’s changing room wearing those clothes, Dean had nearly swallowed his tongue. He’d swung the old long-coat back on to Cas for their return trip to the Impala before they had a riot on their hands. 

With the way the medic moved, Cas could have gone into the Companion’s Guild as well. Dean was sure people would pay handsomely for his company and Cas would be able to live in luxury, the way he deserved. 

Thankfully, before his brain could follow that particular thought, Cas returned with the towels and wearing the dorkiest looking swimming trunks and nothing else. No one would accuse Cas of having a sense of fashion if they met him now, wearing trunks that had bees on them. 

Dean surged out of his chair and shucked off his own top. Grabbing the towels from Cas’ hands, he dropped one on each of the three chairs arranged around the fire. 

“So buddy, you know how to swim?” Dean asked, just to see the baleful look return to Cas’ eyes. 

Cas probably knew fourteen different ways to kill a being in the water. 

“Okay. Good. Just want to make sure you won’t drown.” 

Cas gave him the finger. 

Dean laughed again and noticed a small uptick of Cas’ lips that meant that he was happy.

Dean backed into the warm waters of the ocean and with a crooked finger invited Cas in. He kept a bright smile on his face and when the water rose up to his chest he simply lay down on the water, floating. He relaxed into the water, shut his eyes as he let the water take him where it would. 

The gentle splash of water indicated another body next to him. Dean slightly turned his head until he could see Cas floating on the water quite close to him, his eyes closed too and as Dean watched, Cas relaxed. 

Or at least as much as a lifetime worth of being hyper vigilant would let Cas relax. Cas probably had never been near any body of water just for the relaxation factor. Hopefully, this would give Cas a different memory of the ocean. 

Their lives so far had been full of such moments, him introducing Cas to something, only to find out later that Cas did know of that particular thing but only as far as how it pertained to assassinating beings. 

Pleasure was something that the Sith overlords had not deemed important for Cas to experience. 

Had Cas’ Sith overlords tried to use the assassin as a Companion or a Concubine? Historically, those types were also assassins. 

Dean wondered about a lot of things with regards to Cas. Dean dared any one to look at Cas and not see that he was created to be seductive. In his humble opinion, everything about Cas was seductive. And that was when Cas was not even trying. 

Imaging him as an on-purpose, seductive Companion type made Dean’s mind explode. 

And really, he didn’t need those kinds of problems when Cas was so physically close to him, although he might revisit the idea tonight in his nightly shower. 

Dean took a deep breath, folded his legs under him and sank like a stone to the bottom of the warm water. 

Carefully, he slid under Cas, and in the same instant he wrapped his arms around Cas’s stomach, he pulled the medic down into the water and held him as long as he could. 

But as relaxed as Cas was a moment ago, he was not anymore, and it didn’t take very long before Cas was wriggling out of his arms. 

Dean needed to breathe, and so he shot back up to the top to get a lung full of air before swimming as fast as he could away from Cas. 

As in all things, Cas was faster than he was and suddenly Dean was the one being pulled under. 

They played in the water for a while, until Dean didn’t think he could swim anymore, the shore miles away. 

Cas realized that Dean was exhausted because he lay back on the water next to him. They stayed there for a while until Sammy called them to the shore for dinner. 

Dean followed slowly behind Cas and once they reached the chairs, he grabbed the towel and slumped down into his chair, towel slung around his shoulders. Physically, he was no match for Cas. 

What kind of being was Cas? Cas had never really specified and Dean had never asked.

“Good swim?” Sammy said. 

Dean just grunted at him but Cas gave Dean a fond eye-smile, and said, “The best.” 

Dean nodded emphatically. If Cas was able to forget who he was for a miniscule moment in time and frolic like a kid in the ocean, then Dean would take exhaustion. Dean relaxed back in his chair, his whole body limp like a bag of wet noodles. 

Not only did he help distract Cas but he also wiped himself out. Hopefully, he’d get a good night’s rest so he could wake up bright and early to work on the Impala. 

Dean ate the food Sammy served up and listened, content, to Sammy and Cas talk as Sammy filled him in on all the things that he saw while he was out foraging for their dinner. 

Someone was tugging him off the chair. “Come Dean, let’s get you to your bed.” Cas’ arm was around his waist, and he was mostly holding Dean’s weight. 

“Wanna sleep here.” 

“We don’t know what kinds of night predators this planet might contain.”

“Wanna see the stars.” 

“Okay.” Cas tugged him over to his tent and helped him into his sleeping cot. He unzipped the top of the tent that allowed Dean to see the stars. Then, “Goodnight, Dean.”

“’Night, Cas.”


	4. Chapter 4

The following two days were the closest to a vacation they’d had in a long time. Dean alternated spending his time working on the Impala with spending time with Cas and Sammy. Thankfully, Dean kept the Impala in tip top shape so there was not a lot that he needed to do. They played in the ocean, went for long walks on the shore, watched the stars at night. 

Family type things. 

Sammy wouldn’t stop laughing for some reason but Dean just flipped him off as he and Cas walked off into the sunset. And no, their hands were not brushing at all. Dean was not interested in holding Cas’ hand as they walked on the sea shore. Not at all. 

On the third night, Charlie pinged them and they all crowded around the console as she walked them through the security on Barmoral. They went over the details three times before she was satisfied with their knowledge. She also sent them maps of the factory and alternate routes, and promised to be on hand if they needed any help. They thanked her, said good night and wandered off to their bunks to get a good night’s rest. 

***

The next morning they headed to Barmoral, Dean hoping that they’d be able to come back and spend some time on the little planet again sometime in the future. 

The trip to Barmoral took most of the day and when they arrived, they immediately headed for one of the small towns on the outskirts of the medical factory. 

They met up with their contact, Tara, a tough looking woman who walked with a decided limp and who looked like she would take off Dean’s head with a machete if he so much as glanced at her leg. She provided them with their outfits: white jumpsuits that the majority of the factory workers wore, for Dean and Sam; electronic passes that identified them as factory workers; a navy blue jumpsuit and identification for Cas as a supply truck driver. 

The next day, Sammy and Dean went “to work” with Tara and spent the day in the warehouse west of the factory proper. Their job was to fill boxes with the requested items based on the invoices they were shown on the hand held pads provided to them. Tara made the invoices look legit so that if they were questioned they could simply point to the invoices.

Cas showed up later in the day in one of the supply trucks that were used to carry the merchandise from the factory to the shipyards. The navy blue jumpsuit made his eyes pop. Dean did his best not to stare but as usual was completely unsuccessful. 

Sammy and Dean, with Tara’s help, loaded the truck while Cas stood around and shot the breeze with the other truck drivers. 

Dean hoped that he would get to peel that jumpsuit off Cas sometime in the near future. Especially since he knew the body underneath it as well as he knew his own. Well, not really. But he could imagine it. After all, they lived on the same small ship. Sometimes he surprised Cas in his undershorts, was all. It’s not like he’d made it his (third?) mission to catch Cas as naked as the day as he was born. No. Not at all. 

Once they finished loading up his truck, Cas nodded in their direction, jumped into the truck and drove off.

They clocked off at the end of their shift and followed Tara back to the Impala, where they helped Cas unload the cargo into the ship’s smugglers’ holds.

Once they were done, they returned their clothing and badges to Tara, who with a nod at them set off for her home. With nothing keeping them there, they immediately departed Balmoral with the medical supply. 

Dean was on tenterhooks when, like the job, the drop-off went off without a hitch. That almost never happened in his experience.

They collected their earnings and headed to Nebraska, a planet not too far from South Dakota and one of the first places Bobby Singer took them to after they first arrived on his doorstep five years ago. 

***

Dean set the Impala down in a field outside of Chadron, the town where The Roadhouse was located. Run by Ellen Harvelle, a friend of Bobby Singer’s and a woman of unexceptional fortitude, The Roadhouse boasted a bar, a restaurant and living accommodations, for those so inclined. 

They would probably sleep in the Impala tonight but Dean was not about to pass up an opportunity to eat Ellen’s famous burgers and drink some beer. Maybe take a day or two to relax and unwind before Sammy dragged them on yet another job. 

Dean stopped at the doors, and looked at Sammy and Cas who were flanking him on the right and left respectively. Sammy just rolled his eyes at him while Cas gave him a small, fond eye-smile. Dean stepped forward, pushed the doors open with both hands and swaggered in like he owned the joint. Sammy and Cas gave him a moment for his grand entrance, then they too were walking through the door. 

There was squeal somewhere to his right and then his arms were suddenly full of a wriggling Jo who was pummeling his shoulders while screeching, “Dean!” right into his ear. 

He held onto her and let her screech as much as she wanted. When the assault to his ears ceased and he was able to make out the ambient noises of the bar, he gently lowered her to the floor, and said, “Joanna Beth, did you get fat while I was gone?”

The screeching and the pummeling began anew. He looked toward Cas to see how he was taking all the noise. But Sammy and Cas were already at the bar, sliding onto the bar stools with one free stool between them.

He put his arm across Jo’s shoulders and half led, half dragged her to the stool. Jo finally let go of him and snared Sammy in her clutches instead. While the two were having their reunion, Dean hollered, “Barkeep!” 

Ash flung his hair back and turned to him, a huge smile on his face, “Mi amigos!” He hurried over to them with their usual beers, still smiling from ear to ear. 

“Ash, my man!” Ash put up his fist so they bumped fists. Ash had to be one of the smartest, if not THE smartest man, Dean knew. And yet, he worked at The Roadhouse as a bartender, and sometimes even slept on the tables. Dean had stopped wondering what the guy’s story was a long time ago. Must be something evil, since even drunk and high, Ash had never spilled the beans. But Ellen trusted him. And that was good enough for Dean. 

“You guys hungry?” Ash asked, and Dean nodded. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cas nod as well. “Three specials and a salad for Sam?”

“Sounds great.” Dean said, and Ash hurried off to relay the information to the cook. 

Dean grabbed his beer, turned toward Cas, raised it in a salute. Cas gave him yet another fond eye-smile and clinked his bottle with his. And they drank. 

Sammy joined them soon after as Jo wandered off to take care of the few tables that were occupied. It was early evening here and soon more and more of the locals began to show up for their dinner.

Ellen arrived with their burgers and she hugged them all, even Cas, and then they ate while she filled them in on the various smugglers and pirates that passed through the joint. 

Cas, Sammy and Dean relocated to a back booth, talking quietly about what they were going to do next. Slowly but steadily as night descended, the joint began to empty out. 

Sammy walked off somewhere, probably to the bathrooms in the back. 

At some point, when Dean revealed that Cas couldn’t get drunk, Jo challenged him to a drink-off. Cas now had about twenty empty shot glasses in front of him while Jo had an impressive ten. She reached for the eleventh but her fingers were trembling and she swayed where she sat across the table from Cas. Dean did not envy the impressive headache she was gonna have tomorrow. 

The doors opened and Dean’s good mood evaporated as Gordon fucking Walker slithered into the bar. His beady eyes roved over the remaining town folk until he reached the corner where Dean, Cas and Jo were. 

Gordon, still in his Mandolorian getup, clanked his way through the bar and came to rest in front of Dean, smirk solidly in place. 

He pushed Jo over and sat down across from Dean and Cas. 

Jo simply toppled over with a faint, “Ow!”

Dean shoved himself out of his seat ready to go after the bastard for touching Jo when Cas’ arm shot up and out, and held him in place, his gravelly voice made more so due to the late hour, “He’s not worth it, Dean.”

Why he was surprised he didn’t know but between the gravelly voice and the quickness with which Cas stopped him from rising from his seat, Little Dean suddenly decided to perk up. 

Now was so not the fucking time. He really needed to have a serious talk with the bastard. 

However, now that Cas had intervened Gordon looked at Cas. “Interesting.”

Gordon knew him too well. Dean may have given Gordon some indication by how fast he acquiesced to Cas’ request but if Gordon realized how much Cas meant to him, Gordon would definitely use Cas to get Dean’s compliance for whatever this was. Dean knew Gordon’s bad habits just as well as Gordon knew his. 

Dean relaxed back into his chair. Cas’ hand dropped back to his side. 

Gordon smirked at him. “Where’s Sammy, Deano?” 

“None of your business.”

“Sure is, Deano.” Gordon set a hologram emitter on the table and pressed a button on it. John Winchester’s face popped up, and then, Dean heard his father’s voice for the first time in years outside of his nightmares.

“Wanted Dead or Alive: Samuel Winchester. Reward: 2 million platinum. Wanted Alive: Dean Winchester. Reward: 1 million platinum.”

John Winchester was capable of doing evil things but this, this was beyond the pale. Dean kept his face as stoic as possible. After all, Gordon hadn’t learned anything about him in the last five years. That, more than anything else, might give Dean an advantage over Gordon. 

Dean leaned back, projecting arrogance, when all he wanted to do was cry into Cas’ shoulder about why his father hated him. “So?”

“I’m here to collect you and Sammy, Deano.”

“You and what army?” Dean smirked at Gordon, and projected all his hate towards him. 

Gordon just smirked again and pressed a button on his gauntlet, into which he said, “Go.”

Several things happened simultaneously. 

The few patrons of the bar and the restaurant dropped their cloaks to reveal storm trooper blasters which they immediately pointed at Dean and Cas. 

Ellen, Ash and a scrawny guy in a white shirt leapt over the counters and pointed their guns at Gordon. 

Next to him, Cas’ head hit the table as he finally succumbed to the drink. 

Sammy walked back into the restaurant proper with his hands in the air and a couple of blasters prodding him in the back. 

Gordon smirked at Dean. 

No fucking way.

No way would Dean let Gordon win. Dean jumped up and out of his seat.

Gordon relaxed back into his seat, pulled out his blaster and proceeded to wag it in Dean’s face “You have a choice here, Deano. You can come with me. No muss, no fuss. Or we kill Sammy there and then take you with us anyway.” He shrugged. “Your choice.” 

Dean had no choice here and Gordon knew it. 

Dean would never do anything that would harm Sammy, and Gordon knew that too. 

Dean could shoot his way out but with Sammy and Cas still in here, he was unwilling to bet on their lives. And then there was Jo, Ellen and Ash to consider as well. 

Dean slowly put his hands up.

Across the room, Sammy shouted, “Dean, no!”

Gordon smirked, and then said, “Kill them all!”

“What?” Dean shouted, “That was not the deal!

“There is no deal, Dean. I won, you lost. And you know what they say. To the winner, go the spoils.”

Cas jumped up suddenly from the table, and Dean turned to him. “Cas? You okay?”

But the fond look was missing from the medic’s eyes. Cas’ eyes looked vacant, like he was not even in there. 

Across the room, Sammy clutched his head, screamed and slumped down to the floor in a heap. 

Cas leaped at Dean and took him down in one fell swoop. Cas closed his hands around Dean’s neck. Dean could hear blaster fire all around him as the others exchanged fire. 

They were not going to make it. 

He shouldn’t have come here. He shouldn’t have brought Sammy and Cas here. He shouldn’t have brought his problems to Jo and Ellen’s doorstep. 

If he hadn’t come here, if he hadn’t brought Sammy and Cas here, Jo, Ellen, and even Ash, might have lived, might have made it through the night. 

Dean struggled against Cas even though he knew that he was no match for Cas’s physical strength. Cas still had one hand around his neck, while the second one now held his light saber, it’s point very close to Dean’s face. Dean was beginning to lose consciousness but before he did, Dean had to make Cas understand and so he dropped his shields and projected as hard as he could toward Cas.

_It’s okay, Cas._

_I forgive you, Cas._

_Cas, I need you._

_Come back to me, Cas._

Shouting now. 

_Cas, I need you._

But the darkness of unconsciousness arrived swiftly, and the last thing Dean projected before he went under was, _I love you, Cas._


	5. Chapter 5

Sonovabitch.

Dean didn’t remember drinking so much so that he would have a splitting headache the next day but apparently he did because, holy fuck, his head was killing him. 

He needed pain meds and to pee. 

Most probably in that order. 

But first he needed to open his eyes. 

His vision was blurry around the edges like he had a concussion or something. 

What the fuck happened last night? 

He didn’t try to move his limbs yet. He wasn’t sure that they were still attached to him. 

“Sammy? Cas?” 

He wasn’t expecting either of them to answer but when he heard a feminine voice he groaned in despair. 

“Dean, open your eyes.”

Dean did his best but he just couldn’t get them to open all the way. 

He had to find Sammy and Cas. Make sure they were okay. 

Since he couldn’t open his eyes, he tried to get out of whatever he was sleeping in and get to his feet. 

Turned out his feet didn’t want to cooperate with him either. 

“Open your eyes, Dean.” The woman had a soothing but firm voice as she exhorted him yet again. 

Too loud though.

“I’m okay,” he tried to say but he wasn’t sure if he actually made words that someone else would understand. 

“You’re okay. Here, drink some water.” A straw was slipped between his dry lips and he sucked on it like his life depended on it. The cool water slid down his throat, and ow, that hurt. He let the straw slip out of his mouth when he couldn’t continue.

Where the fuck were Sammy and Cas? 

So he tried to ask for them again but his throat hurt like the devil.

A burst of feminine laughter that sounded very much like Jo surprised him into opening his eyes. 

And ow, that hurt too. 

Ellen, because that was who had been talking to him all this time, lowered her voice, (thank god for small miracles,) and said, “Take your time, Dean. You’re okay.” 

He definitely remembered Gordon fucking Walker slithering into The Roadhouse. A vacant-eyed Cas choking him. Sammy falling to the floor in a slump.

If Gordon took Sammy and Cas, Dean couldn’t take his fucking time.

“Sammy?” He choked out. 

“They took him, Dean. That Mandolorian fella took Sam,” Ellen said. 

Fuck. He’d known that in his bones. 

“Cas?” 

“He’s in the wine cellar,” Jo said. “Handcuffed him myself.” 

In his mind’s eye, Dean could just see the gleeful look on her face and hear the satisfaction in her voice. 

“What the fuck?”

“He fucking tried to kill you!” came Jo’s surprisingly vehement rejoinder. 

Cas would never hurt him. 

“Wanna see Cas.”

“No fucking way, Dean! Which part of He. Tried. To. Kill you. Don’t you understand?”

Ow, Jo’s screeching hurt his head. 

Cas would never try to kill him. Not if he was in his right mind. 

“Wanna see Cas.”

“Mom!” Jo screeched again. 

Dean was finally able to cover his ears with his hands. Jo was so fucking loud. 

“Joanna Beth, quit your caterwauling. Take Ash and go get Cas.” 

“Mom,” Jo whined.

In his mind’s eye, Dean could clearly see the stern-mom face that Ellen was most probably making. 

“Fine. Come, Ash.” Jo flounced out. Dean heard a second pair of footsteps following her. 

“I’m sorry, Ellen,” Dean said. “We shouldn’t have come here.” 

“What’s going on, Dean?”

Dean wanted to shake his head but he wasn’t sure he was capable of moving his head yet. 

“Can we wait until Cas gets here?”

“Sure, honey. Do you want some more water?”

“Yes, please.” Dean opened his mouth slightly when he felt the straw on his bottom lip. He sucked the cool water down his still raw throat. 

He let the straw slip through his lips and tried again to open his eyes. Slowly and carefully, he raised his eyelids but it was still too bright for his eyes and he closed them again. 

“Take your time,” Ellen said. 

Instead of forcing his eyes to open, he tried to figure out where he was. There was wood under his fingertips, so he was either on the counter or on one of the tables. 

“Where am I?”

“Dean?”

“Still at The Roadhouse?” 

“Yes.” 

“Table or counter?”

“Floor.” Ellen said. “We couldn’t pick your ass up to the tables though we tried.”

There was a dull thud of something blunt hitting flesh and then he heard the return of three sets of footsteps. 

“Cas?”

“Go ahead,” Ellen said sternly. 

One set of footsteps shuffled closer to him, and then, “Hello, Dean.”

Dean was so relieved to hear that beloved gravelly voice again he nearly cried. He carefully patted the floor next to him until his hand encountered Cas’ boot. 

“Cas, you okay?”

“I am well.” 

“Thank fuck.” 

“How are you, Dean?”

“Everything hurts.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Not your fault, buddy.”

“What the hell, Dean? Haven’t you been listening to me? He tried to kill you,” Jo screeched again and yes, that was probably what it looked like but really, did she have to screech so much? He put his hands back on his ears hoping to stop some of the noise. 

“Joanna Beth,” Ellen said, “he’s in pain and your screeching is not helping anything.” 

Jo flounced away and he heard her fall onto a chair muttering about ungrateful assholes. 

“He needs a dark room and a good night’s rest,” Cas said.

In his mind’s eye, Dean could see the assessing look Ellen most probably threw Cas’ way. “We shouldn’t move him until he can see a medic.” 

“I’m fine,” Dean said. There was nothing wrong with him that a little hair of the dog wouldn’t fix. 

“I’m a medic,” Cas said, ignoring Dean. 

“Dean?” Ellen had a whole conversation contained in that one word. She trusted him. And if he told her to, she would trust Cas too.

“Cas is a medic, Ellen. It’s what he does on the Impala.”

A silent conversation commenced around him. He could nearly hear the arguments and the counter arguments. 

Dean carefully slitted his eyes open and looked to his left. He could almost make out Cas’ black leather boots and around his ankles was something new. Something shiny. 

“What the fuck?”

“Dean?”

“Why the fuck is he in chains, Ellen?”

“We didn’t —”

“Take them the fuck off right now,” he was nearly screeching himself, now and ow, that hurt his head too. 

Cas squatted down, put his large, warm hands on Dean’s face, and suddenly all Dean could see was blue. “Dean. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fucking fine.” Dean turned toward Ellen. “Take. Them. Off.” Who the fuck was he going to have to kill to get this done?

Dean tried to rise up but Cas moved one hand to his chest. Between the hand on his cheek and the hand on his chest was a bright, shiny set of cuffs. 

“Take. Them. Off. Him. Right. Now,” Dean bellowed at the top of his lungs, his head be damned. 

In his mind’s eye, he could see Ellen’s most unimpressed mom-look in her arsenal. “We didn’t know how dangerous he was to you or to us. So we put the cuffs on him when he was unconscious. And he didn’t say anything about them, Dean. Calm down.” 

“How many times do I gotta tell you? Cas is not dangerous. Not to me, and certainly not to any of you.”

“Actually, Dean—”

“Shut up, Cas.” 

And then the warm hands were back on his face, he was stuck in the blue eyes and couldn’t look away. 

“It might be best if I kept the cuffs on for a little while longer.” 

“You too, Cas?”

“I’m not sure that I am safe yet, Dean.”

“No, Cas.” 

“It’s okay, Dean.”

“It’s not okay.” Dean slumped back onto the floor. He was so fucking tired. 

“Is there some dark place we can put him?” Cas asked Ellen. 

Jo snorted.

“Someplace dark that is not the cellars,” Cas clarified. 

“We weren’t able to move him,” Ellen said quietly to Cas. 

“Not a problem,” Cas said, then he twisted the cuffs on his hands and feet, letting the broken bits fall to the floor. 

“Sonovabitch.” That was Jo. 

“Awesome.” And Ash. 

Cas’ eyes returned to him, and he said, “I’m going to pick you up now, Dean.”

Cas slid one arm under his back and the other under his knees, standing up effortlessly like he wasn’t carrying all of Dean’s weight.

Little Dean decided to join the party. Apparently, the bastard really liked Cas’ casual use of strength. Dean had to put all of his concentration into not popping a boner. 

Dean put his arms around Cas’ neck and hid his face in his chest as Ellen led the way to the back of the bar and up the stairs to one of the bedrooms she kept for people who might need a place to stay the night.

She opened a door and then Cas carefully laid Dean down on the bed. The lights were off, thankfully, and so Dean hoped that his predicament was not visible to everyone in the room. 

Cas proceeded to remove Dean’s boots while Ellen still hovered in the doorway. 

To placate her, Dean said, “I’ll be fine Ellen.” 

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

She finally decided that Dean knew what he was talking about because she ushered Jo out, and before leaving said, “Let me know if you guys need anything.”

The door closed behind her and he heard the metallic click when the lock was engaged.

Once Cas was done with his boots, he walked closer to the headboard, and then, Dean felt his fingers carefully probing around his throat. 

“Ow,” Dean said, just to be a little shit. His throat really hurt but the stabbing pain in his head was reduced now that he was in a dark room. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said, a wealth of sorrow in his voice. 

And no, no, no. That just wouldn’t do. 

“Cas,” Dean said, and took Cas’ hands in his. He couldn’t see for shit in the dark but he hoped Cas could hear the sincerity in his voice. “You are my best friend.” He could see a vague outline of Cas as he nodded up and down, yes. “You would never hurt me. Never. I believe that completely, okay?”

“Okay.”

“So, when I say you have nothing to be sorry about, do you believe me?”

“Yes, Dean. But—”

“Did you mean to hurt me?”

“No,” Cas said. “I did not.” 

“Well then, there you go.” Dean didn’t know how much Cas believed him but he knew that his shields were for crap right now. And he didn’t really remember all that he’d projected to Cas before he lost consciousness. Which reminded him, “What the fuck happened, Cas?”

“It’s a long story.” 

“Well, I got all the time in the world.” Dean should have been restless, ready to go after Sammy but he wasn’t, and for some reason he didn’t resent the time he was gonna have to take to recuperate enough to be able to go after Sammy. 

“How much do you remember?”

“You and Jo were drinking.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then Gordon fucking Walker was there.” 

“If that’s his name, yes.”

“Then Sammy came back but all of a sudden he was on the ground, and you jumped me.” 

In his mind’s eye, Dean could plainly see the wince on Cas’ face. 

“Hey,” Dean squeezed the hands still in his. “That’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to jump me. Gordon did something to you.” He waited until finally Cas squeezed back.

“Not Gordon, someone else.” 

“Who?” 

“That’s where the long story comes in.” Cas’ hands slipped out of his. “I’ll be right back. I’m just getting a chair to sit on.” 

“Dude, you can sit here,” Dean said as he patted the bed.

“Are you sure, Dean?”

Dean could see the head tilt in his mind’s eye so clearly he wanted to laugh. Adorable. As. Fuck. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m just gonna move over and then you can come sit with me.”

“Very well.” Cas sat on the bed, his back to Dean, twin thuds echoing in the room as he took off his boots. 

Dean slid over to the other side of the bed until he hit the wall, and then, carefully turned onto his right side so he could face Cas.

Cas turned, shoved the pillow behind his back before scooting on his ass toward the headboard and stretched out his long legs on the bed beside Dean.

“What do you know about the Sith Academy?”

“Not a whole lot. They train kids to become Sith warriors?”

“Not all of them. You know they took me in as a child.”

“Yeah, you told me that.”

“And did I tell you about the Headmistress?”

“No.”

“Very well.” Cas took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Headmistress Naomi kept a close eye on my training. Unlike most other Force Sensitives, I’d been almost six when I was taken to the Academy. By fourteen, I was among the best in all aspects.”

Yeah. Dean didn’t doubt that one bit. 

“Headmistress Noami came to me with my first mission. That was almost unheard of in the Academy. I don’t remember most of what the mission was.” 

“How can you not remember?” Dean blurted out. 

“Please let me finish, Dean. If you interrupt, I might not have the courage to finish.” 

Dean moved his hand over and covered Cas’ hands where they were sitting limp in his lap. He squeezed them gently, to let him know to continue. 

“The mission was successful and as a result, I was introduced to the Emperor.” 

“Emperor Michael?”

“Yes.” In his mind’s eye, Dean can see the unimpressed look Cas was most probably making right now. “I was to be his new Emperor’s Hand.”

Dean shuddered. Emperor’s Hand? He knew Cas was some kind of a Sith assassin, but the Emperor’s Hand was the best of the best assassins the Sith had. 

“Do you know how the Emperor communicated with his Hands, Dean?”

“No.”

“Via a psychic link.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Indeed.” 

“And I’m just guessing here,” Dean said, “but Headmistress Naomi was instrumental in putting that psychic link in your head.” 

“Indeed.” 

“Fuck.” 

Cas seemed far away so Dean squeezed his hand yet again to get him to continue. 

“When the Emperor died, that link was broken. And a lot of the shields around my memories fell,” Cas continued in a monotone, like all this shit happened to someone else. 

“I think it broke my mind in some ways. I spent quite a few years after that at the bottom of a lot of barrels of the local brew, regardless of the planet I found myself on. Liquor and drugs were the only things that helped me to forget.”

“And then I found you in that rinky dink shack,” Dean added. 

“Indeed.” 

There was a hesitance to Cas, something that he wanted to tell Dean. Dean had never seen him like this. Cas twisted his hands while he thought through something. 

To distract him, Dean said, “So you think that was Naomi that broke back into your head and made Sammy collapse?” 

“Most definitely. Naomi was quite displeased when I refused to continue to work for her, for the Sith. Another side effect of the drinking of copious amounts of alcohol was that while it numbed the memories, it also weakened my mind. Made me susceptible to any and all psychic interferences. Naomi could have only done this when both Sam and I were intoxicated. Sam is too strong for the likes of Naomi to be able to control him. Truthfully, I think Sam may be stronger than the Emperor. That’s why —” 

“That’s why what?”

Cas went rigid like whatever he thought about had him completely terrified. For a moment, Dean was afraid that Naomi or Gordon were back and had retaken control of Cas. 

“Cas? Cas?” Dean moved closer to Cas and sat up even though his head was killing him. He placed his hands on Cas’ face and gently turned Cas to face him. “Look at me, Cas. Look at me. I’m here. Right here.” 

“Yes,” Cas said. “Yes.” His large, warm hands came to rest on Dean’s face. “That was you.” 

“What was me?” 

“Did you drop your shields and project to me while I was choking you, Dean?”

Dean hoped Cas couldn’t see the blush that erupted on his face but Cas was gonna know cause he still had his hands on Dean’s face. He did drop his shields and there was no telling what all he projected to Cas in the heat of the moment. 

Dean ducked his head. “Yeah. I was trying to get you to stop choking me, dude.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Cas,” Dean said yet again. Maybe one of these times it would stick. Who knew? Greater miracles had happened. 

“Yes. Well, you dropped your shields and you were projecting to me. I think… No, I know that is what broke Naomi’s hold on my mind.” 

“What? I broke—? How?” 

“All I remember is this painful hold on my mind, like a screw being turned tighter, and tighter, and tighter.”

Yeah, that made sense. 

“And then all of a sudden, I could hear your thoughts and the screw stopped, might have even unwound.”

Okay. 

“You were shouting at me. ‘I need you, Cas,’ you said. ‘I forgive you, Cas.’ And then—”

Why didn’t bottomless pits open up when Dean needed them?

The awe in the words Dean heard next made him cringe. 

“You love me?”

Dean shuffled backwards so fast he crashed into the wall on his side of the bed. No, no, no. Cas wasn’t supposed to know about that. 

“It’s okay, Dean. You’re okay.” Dean wasn’t sure what pulled him out from his panic attack: Cas’ large, warm hands on his face again or that beloved, gravelly voice. 

Whatever it was, Dean wished that he’d been on the Death Star when Luke Skywalker and Han Solo destroyed it. 

“I—I mean—”

“It’s okay, Dean.” Cas’ thumbs were slowly swiping back and forth across his hot cheeks. “You’re okay. Deep breaths. In. One. Two. Three. And out.” 

Dean inhaled and exhaled with Cas. 

He hadn’t done that in a while. God, it was so humiliating. 

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he said as soon as he could. He had to get that out there first. Cas really didn’t need Dean adding to his problems.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Dean,” Cas said. 

The little shit. Using his own words against him. 

Dean took a deep breath. There was no point in hiding from Cas now that the cat was out of the bag.

“Yeah, I love you,” Dean breathed out in the space between them, saying the words out loud for the first time. 

“Oh, Dean.” 

And then he had an octopus in his bed because Cas enveloped his whole body in his arms and legs, and that was nice. Really nice. 

“Dude, some space. I still need to breathe, you know?”

“Indeed.” Cas eased off some so that Dean didn’t feel like he was being crushed but he still stayed curled around Dean. He could totally get used to this. 

“You’re okay with—” Dean didn’t know what to call what they were doing but he needed to make sure that Cas was okay with knowing how he felt. 

“With what?” 

Dean was sure Cas was doing the adorable head tilt thing again and he smiled. 

“With me vomiting all my feelings all over you.”

Cas gave a rumbling laugh that, because they were so closely intertwined, Dean felt throughout his body. “You have a wonderful way with words, Dean.”

“Laugh it up, Chuckles.” Dean grumbled. 

“Yes. I’m okay,” Cas said as his large warm hands roamed up and down Dean’s back. 

Little Dean was beginning to take an interest in the proceedings, and with Cas so close, there would be no way to hide the evidence from him. 

Dean shifted his hips a little more into the wall. Just because Cas was okay with knowing how Dean felt about him didn’t mean he wanted physical evidence of it. 

“Dean?” At this close proximity Dean loved how that voice rumbled in his ears. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For projecting your thoughts into my mind. I believe that is what broke Naomi’s hold.”

Huh. Never would have thought he would have the wherewithal to do something like that. 

“I thought Sammy was the Force Sensitive one.” 

“Indeed. However, I believe we have a more profound bond.”

And there went Little Dean again. Really, at this point he was just going to have to give up. Lost cause and all that. 

“Dude.”

Cas laughed again and kissed him on his forehead. Dean just soaked it up like parched deserts soaked up what little rain they got. 

“That’s what best friends are for.” 

“Best friends?” Cas said. 

Did people fall in love with their best friends? 

“Sure.”

“Best friends,” Cas said again. 

Did Cas sound disappointed? Or was that just Dean projecting his disappointment onto Cas’ voice?

To distract himself from his disappointment, he said, “And then what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Cas said. “Between the drinking and the psychic assault, I fell unconscious. When I woke up, I was already cuffed and Ellen made it very clear that I was to cooperate with Jo and Ash. They walked me to the cellars and then left me alone.” 

“Yeah, about that,” Dean said, unable to hide his anger. “How come you let them keep the cuffs on you?”

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas said. “I wasn’t sure how far Naomi could control me, and at that point in time, it was the best thing for all of us. Especially in light of what happened. Ellen and Jo were not in a position to trust me.” 

Yeah. Okay. Maybe Cas had a point but still, cuffing and chaining Cas like he was a common criminal? He was gonna have words with Ellen about that. 

“And then Jo came in, told me you were awake, and asking for me.”

“And a good thing too.”

“Dean, please forgive them. It would be far better for us if you forgive them. We will need them in the quest to retrieve Sam.”

Damn. He’d all but forgotten about Sammy . 

Well, so what else was new? He was a shitty best friend and he was a shittier brother. 

“Yeah. We need to find out where Gordon took him.”

“Wouldn’t he have taken him to Kansas, to Senator Winchester?”

“What the hell? How long have you known who we are?”

“That is yet another long story.” Cas was definitely hiding something. “And you need to rest.”

They were safe for now except for Sammy being in Gordon fucking Walker’s clutches but Dean also had to be carried to this bed. And he probably wasn’t going anywhere until he could walk on his own two feet. 

“Okay. Yeah.” Dean said. In his mind’s eye, he could see the skeptical look on Cas’ face. He needed to get his four hours and then he’d be good to go. But before that, “I hate to ask, dude.” 

“Anything,” Cas said immediately.

“I need to go pee.”

“Very well,” Cas said, like this was an ordinary day in their life. 

Cas released him and scooted off the bed. 

Dean carefully moved towards him. “I might be able to walk,” he said when Cas bent down to pick him up. Dean could see Cas’ eyebrow rise up in his mind’s eye. 

Dean gingerly rose from the bed secure in the knowledge that Cas was right there and wouldn’t let him fall. 

“Might need some meds from Ellen too. My head is killing me.”

“That might have been the psychic backlash from my mind.” Cas sounded apologetic again. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Cas,” Dean said for the umpteenth time today.

They carefully shuffled to the small bathroom that was attached to the room, Cas positioning him in front of the commode and then standing close behind him. 

Dean fumbled with his pants, did his business as fast as he could and then they shuffled back to the bed.

Cas made sure he was lying down on the bed before he headed for the door and Ellen. “I will be right back with your medication.”

How were they going to get Sammy away from Gordon? And what about Naomi? And even goddamned John Winchester?

Between the choking and the psychic backlash, Dean’s brain just felt like a sieve. The thoughts wandered in and out and he was unable to focus on any one item. Probably be best to get his four hours in and then maybe his mind would work enough for him to think of what they should do next. 

Soon, the door opened again and Cas returned with his meds. Dean pushed up onto one arm to be able to swallow them, and the glass of water, that Cas brought with him. 

Once Dean was done, Cas placed the glass on the side table, and when Dean said, “Stay with me tonight?” Cas crawled into the bed without a word. 

Cas reached for his hands and when Dean surrendered them, Cas started to gently but firmly massage the flesh between the thumb and the forefinger. 

Dean relaxed as the massage continued, his thoughts drifted away and he fell into the blackness of sleep.

~~Cas never said he loved him back.~~


	6. Chapter 6

Dean woke up like he usually did, asleep one moment and wide awake the next. 

What was unusual about today though was the warm, hard body wrapped all around him. 

Apparently, Cas was also an octopus when he slept with someone. 

Dean wished he could relax back into the bed. However, his bladder was screaming at him. He told it to shut the fuck up and carefully smoothed his free hand over Cas’ back. His hand wanted to wander, wanted to caress Cas’ ass and other places but until they had a frank conversation about how Cas felt about Dean, he shouldn’t be touching Cas in anything other than a platonic way. 

Dean tried wiggling out from under Cas but the man just tightened his arms and legs around him. 

Okay. New plan. 

“Cas, buddy, I gotta go pee.” Apparently, Cas heard, and understood him because he loosened his arms a bit so Dean slipped out and immediately headed to the bathroom. He did his business then went back for his boots. He laced them up so that he wouldn’t trip on them then made a beeline to the door. 

Dean kept his eyes closed before he opened the door. He walked out, made sure the door locked behind him before he carefully opened his eyes. His head wasn’t hurting as much as yesterday and he was able to handle the light in the dim hallway so he made his way down the hallway, down the stairs, and to the bar area of the roadhouse.

Ash was asleep on one of the tables and Jo was nowhere to be seen. But he heard pots and pans clattering in the kitchen so he headed that way. Thankfully, the blessed aroma of coffee and bacon was strong in the air. 

He knocked on the door jamb. 

Ellen was looking for something in the old cooling unit. 

“Morning, Dean. How are you doing?”

“Morning, Ellen. I’m fine.”

Ellen gave him an appraising look. “Coffee?”

“Please.” 

She poured him a cup and he stayed in the doorway sipping it as she puttered about the kitchen. 

Ever since Bobby introduced them after they ran from John Winchester’s brand of crazy, Ellen had taken them under her wing. She reminded him a lot of Missouri Moseley, their nanny, and only mother figure they had after Mary was…

He shut down that line of thinking immediately. . 

“I need to call someone,” Dean said. He should get in touch with Charlie. If there was anyone who could find where Gordon took Sam, it would be Charlie. 

“You know where the office is.” 

“More coffee?” 

When Ellen was done pouring the coffee, he carefully took the hot carafe from her hand, and set it and the cup on the counter closest to him. Then he gently pulled her into a hug. “Thanks.”

She pulled away from him and gave him another long appraising look. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Yeah.” He gave her a soft squeeze. 

“If it helps any, John Winchester was always an ass.”

Dean laughed with his whole body. Thank goodness. He had been afraid he was gonna be vomiting all his feelings all over her. And wouldn’t that be an ugly sight?

“That he is, Ellen. That he is.” Dean squeezed her hard for a moment before letting go, picked up his cup of coffee and headed to the office that was under the stairs and right across from the kitchen.

He set his right hand on the reader to open the door. He turned on the power to the old computer, before he sat in the chair in front of it, and sipped his hot coffee while the computer booted up. Once it did, he logged into his comm account and sent Charlie a message to contact him as soon as she could. 

After he was done, he headed back to the kitchen and asked Ellen for a second cup. He filled both cups with hot coffee, then headed back to the bedroom and to Cas. 

Cas would take at least an hour to wake up. Dean had met Wookies who were more amiable first thing in the morning than Cas if he didn’t get his two cups.

He carefully walked up the stairs, made sure he didn’t spill a drop as he used his right thumb to open the door to the bedroom and walked to the side table. He set the cups on it then he took a moment to look at the man in his bed. 

He had wanted Cas there for so long he couldn’t believe that Cas was actually in his bed. Maybe not in all the ways that he wanted but he got to sleep in Cas’ arms last night. That had to be the best thing that happened to Dean since he met Cas. 

He slid open the curtains so that there was some light in the room and then locked the bedroom door. He really didn’t want Jo barging in here. Which she was liable to do. Sometimes she acted just like the little sister he never wanted. 

He was very tempted to crawl into bed and the rest of the galaxy be damned but they had work to do. 

They needed to find where Gordon took Sammy, and then once they did, they needed to figure out how to get Sammy back. 

In the three years that he had known Cas, he had never needed to wake him up except for that first time. Cas looked so peaceful. Dean was sorry that he had to wake him up. Cas was sprawled all over the bed, Dean’s pillow in his arms and under his chest as his back moved slowly up and down with each breath.

Dean wanted to crawl into the bed, shut off his mind and just spend the day in bed with Cas. Slowly kissing him awake. Making sure he drank his coffee. While away the day making love to Cas. 

Instead he had a missing brother to find, a team to put together, and a rescue to plan. 

Dean grabbed Cas’ shoulder and shook him gently, “Cas, buddy, time to wake up.” 

The next thing Dean knew he was flat on the floor, Cas looming over him, one of Cas’ hands around his throat and the other somehow managed to get both Dean’s hands in a single, tight grip. 

Little Dean was definitely on board with this. 

However, the fact of the matter was they simply didn’t have the time to have a discussion of a very personal nature. 

So, while Dean loved where Cas had put him, since Dean had a lot of fantasies that started just this way, Cas still looked like he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. They really needed to have a discussion before Dean started humping Cas’ thick thigh.

“Cas, buddy, you gotta wake up.”

“Dean.” Blue eyes finally opened and when Cas realized the position they were in, he immediately moved away from Dean, sitting with his back to the bed and focusing his unnerving stare on his hands twisting in agitation in his lap. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean said gently, as he too sat up, “remember what I said last night? You don’t have anything to be sorry about.” 

In the light from the window, Cas refocused his unnerving stare to Dean’s neck where his hand was just a moment ago. 

“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean said. He scooted backwards until he bumped the side table. He got to his knees, turned around to pick up the coffee mug and turned back again, cup extended to Cas. 

Cas had a peculiar look on his face, kinda hungry, kinda awed, and his pupils were blown as though he definitely liked the show Dean had just put on for him. 

Dean felt a blush overtake his face immediately. 

Cas took the cup from him, all the while keeping his eyes on Dean as he sipped at his coffee. 

Dean stared back unable to tear his eyes away from Cas’.

Cas had a surprised look on his face when he tried to take another sip but he had apparently run out of coffee. He looked at the cup, accusation in every line of his body, and then at Dean like, “What are you going to do about the lack of coffee, Dean?” 

Dean simply turned back to the small side table and picked up the second cup. It would probably be a bit cooler than the first one but not by much since Cas had practically inhaled the first one.

Cas put the first cup down next to his thigh without taking his eyes away from Dean’s and extended his hand for the second cup. 

Dean handed him the second cup and deliberately, while Cas was still looking into his eyes, Dean made sure that his fingers brushed Cas’. At that Cas got that peculiar look in his eyes again but again Dean was reminded that what he needed to do here was to wake Cas up long enough so that they could go downstairs, eat some breakfast, including some of Ellen’s beautiful bacon and then head back to the Impala. 

Dean gave Cas a rueful smile, took his hand back and watched as Cas all but inhaled the second cup of coffee. 

Once Cas was done, Dean gathered the two cups and pointing towards the bathroom said, “Go do your business and then come downstairs. We need to head to the Impala after we have breakfast. I sent Charlie a message and hopefully, she’ll be able to help us find Sammy.”

Cas nodded in agreement and the dreamy look faded from his face. In an instant, Cas became the focused medic that Dean had grown to know and to, well, love, apparently. 

Dean almost ran out the door before his resolve crumbled and he pulled Cas into bed with him again. 

They had to find Sammy, damn it. 

***

Charlie, with Ash’s help, was able to find Sammy. Gordon, true to form, had gone back to the one place where he was sure of his welcome. 

Jo wanted to join them but Ellen put her foot down and really, Dean agreed with her, more because he preferred his hide just the way it was. 

When they arrived in Kansan airspace, they were welcomed with open arms. John Winchester’s way of showing Dean all the power and prestige he lost when he defied his father and ran off with Sammy. 

Dean landed the Impala at Wichita Space Port where John Winchester’s delegation was waiting for them, Gordon fucking Walker at the helm. He smirked at Dean but didn’t even look at Cas. 

They disembarked from the Impala, and followed Gordon where, of all things, a prison barge was waiting. 

“How the mighty have fallen,” Gordon said, before handing them over to the female security officer, who gave Dean a wink. 

Dean was hard pressed not to laugh in delight at Charlie. How did she manage to get here so fast? And get on the particular barge that was tasked with ferrying him and Cas? 

Cas just squinted at her in suspicion. 

After they were handcuffed and seated in the barge, Gordon left them with Charlie and climbed aboard a sleek speeder, which they followed to the Senator’s palace in Lawrence. 

Cas eyed the other security officers on the barge but Dean regaled him with the sights on their way to Lawrence. Cas was finally distracted enough with the insight into Dean’s childhood that he stopped paying attention to the security officers on the barge with them and gave Dean a fond eye-smile. 

When they reached the perimeter of Lawrence, Dean took a deep breath. It was now or never. He had a feeling that if he didn’t say anything now, he wasn’t gonna see Cas again. 

“Listen. I know you are not telling me something.”

Cas looked at him with a mixture of fear and uncertainty in his eyes. And wow, Dean didn’t want to see that ever again. 

“Promise me, you’ll come back to the Impala and talk to me after all this is done.” Dean indicated the town of Lawrence. 

Cas looked indecisive. 

“Remember what I said before, you have nothing to be sorry about.”

Cas nodded. 

“Promise me,” Dean said again, “that you will at least come back to the Impala with Sammy and me, and talk to me. Please.”

And Dean knew he was being a little shit but he directed the full force of his puppy dog eyes in Cas’ direction. Although Cas looked like he would never cave, Dean kept his eyes on Cas’ and knew the exact second Cas’ resolve broke. 

“I promise,’ Cas said, voice all gravelly and low just like Little Dean liked it. And really? They were about to go into battle and all Little Dean could think of was Cas’ voice rumbling across his neck and shoulders as he pounded into Dean’s ass hard and fast, just like Dean liked it. 

Thankfully, the barge stopped at that moment, and Charlie and the other security officers prodded Cas and Dean off. They were then prodded up the stairs of the Senator’s Mansion and into the Main Hall. Dean continued to point out the little things that brought back good memories while steadfastly ignoring the bad. 

The Main Hall of the Senator’s Mansion was like the pictures in medieval fantasy books, all tall ceilings and flying buttresses, and consisted of almost as many dark and dank alcoves as Crowley’s Main Hall. 

They walked until they were standing a few feet from what Dean liked to call the throne. While John wasn’t the King, (the King of Kansas was a mild-mannered, professor type named Chuck Shurley, of all things) John sure liked to throw his status around and so the chair that he sat on was as throne-like as he could get away with. 

John Winchester looked like he’d aged twenty years in the last five years. He was slumped in the throne, his brown hair peppered generously with silver, and his face lined with fatigue. He was dressed impeccably in a dark green suit with a dark brown cravat that matched his eyes and hair. 

In the chair next to the throne, the one that his mother used to sit on, was a stern-faced older woman with short, platinum blond hair, dressed in a gray boxy suit that did nothing for her figure. Behind her, stood Sammy, his head hanging low. 

“Naomi,” Cas whispered to him. So that was the bitch Naomi who dragged Cas to Sith Academy and tortured a six year old into becoming a Sith assassin. He hoped there was a special place in the afterlife for people like her. 

“My Lord.” Gordon seemed very pleased with his offering to John. 

But John barely paid him any attention. His attention had been fixed on Dean ever since they walked in the door. 

However, Dean ignored John and focused on Sammy instead. Sammy didn’t look good. If they had to run, Dean was gonna have to figure out a way to get Sammy out too. Sammy was weaving where he was standing and his skin looked pasty, like he’d been sick with a fever for way too long. 

“Thank you, Castiel,” Naomi said, in a tone that conveyed anything but thanks. 

“No thanks are needed,” Cas said, but he wasn’t looking at Naomi. He was looking at Dean, and he looked scared. What did he have to be sacred about?

“There is every need,” Naomi said. She pointed to where Sammy was standing. “Sammy will make a fine addition to the Sith Academy.”

Wasn’t Sammy rather old? Didn’t they prefer to take kids into the Sith Academy?

“Sam is too old to be trained.” Cas growled. Protective Cas was hot. Really, Little Dean had no control whatsoever where Cas was concerned.

“He would have been younger if you had completed your task when it was assigned to you!” Naomi almost-shouted.

“What the hell?” Dean said.

“Oh! Didn’t Castiel tell you?” Naomi finally looked at Dean

Dean nearly growled at Naomi. 

“I see. Well, before he was killed, the Emperor ordered his Hands to find and bring Sam Winchester to him.”

“Cas?” Dean looked at Cas. But Cas was refusing to look at him, his eyes focused on Naomi with a glare that made it clear that smiting was definitely on the table. “Is that true?” Dean stepped in front of him, wishing he could grab his shoulders to get his attention. “Look at me!”

Cas finally made eye contact and Dean’s heart sank when he read the truth there. 

“The last order I was given before the Emperor was killed was to bring Sammy Winchester to him,” Cas said, in a monotone that made chills slide up and down Dean’s spine and not the good kind of chills either. 

“Sonovabitch.” Dean wished he could rake a hand through his hair, (these restraints were terribly inconvenient), trying to think rationally, not emotionally, but the fact of the matter was he couldn’t think logically right this very moment. 

Right this moment, all he wanted to do was kill someone. Anyone. 

Cas had known who they were all this fucking time, probably from the moment Dean introduced himself, and brought him to the Impala. And if there was anything Dean knew about Cas, it was that he was the consummate professional. 

That Cas didn’t complete his assignment, Emperor or no Emperor, meant something. Dean hoped that meant Cas thought of them as family, as his family. But he didn’t have the fucking time to have a conversation with Cas about it. 

Good thing he made Cas promise that they would talk after this was done. 

Gordon pulled him away from Cas on Naomi’s command. Dean was still seething but John didn’t say a word. Interesting.

What was it that Cas once told him? That the Sith used fear and anger to convince people to join them. 

John had grieved the death of his wife but then at some point that grief had transformed into anger toward the Jedi. When Mary died, not only did Dean lose his loving mother but also his doting father. 

John had been so consumed with his grief, he had ignored Dean and Sammy for a very long time as he had pursued any means at his disposal to get revenge on the Jedi. 

And it looked like Naomi had tapped into that anger of John’s and was using him like a puppet.

Dean would have to be very careful about his own anger around Naomi. Dean took in a deep breath trying to calm his anger. “What do you want?” 

“The return of the glorious Sith Empire.” Naomi smirked at Dean. “To be the power behind the throne.” She pointed to Sammy . “He is more powerful than the Emperor. If I control him, then I control the Sith.”

“Lady, you’re nuttier than a fruitcake.”

“With the power of the Sith, I will be able to do whatever I want. And little disrespectful ants like you won’t really matter.”

Then Naomi turned to Castiel. “Don’t you want that too, Castiel? To see the Sith back in their rightful place, powerful and revered by the galaxy?” 

Dean pretended nonchalance but he too was quite interested in what Cas wanted. Cas couldn’t possibly want to just hang out with Dean and Sammy, year after year, taking risky jobs, and running from the Sith and the Jedi alike. Dean would never begrudge Cas finally getting to live in luxury, to have the galaxy at his fingertips. 

“You could be the second most powerful Sith in the galaxy, after me, of course.”

Dean snorted. This woman truly didn’t know Cas. Cas had never been interested in any kind of power in the three years that Dean had known him.

Yeah, but Naomi had known Cas since he was six years old, his stupid brain reminded him. Maybe Cas had been playing a part for the last three years, to keep Dean from catching on to his actual mission. 

Because didn’t Naomi just thank Cas for bringing Sammy to her? It took him more than three years but Cas did finally complete the Emperor’s final mission, didn’t he? 

“What the hell?” Gordon shouted. “You promised me the job, Naomi.”

They all ignored Gordon. 

Cas tilted his head at Naomi. “Second most powerful?”

“After me, of course.” Naomi pointed to Sammy. “Once we have established psychic links with Sam, we should be able to tap into his powers.”

“What the fuck?”

Both Naomi and Castiel ignored him. 

Castiel had a studious, fascinated look on his face. “You found a way for us to tap into his powers?” 

Naomi looked pleased that Castiel was interested in what she was saying like she had been waiting for someone to understand what the fuck she was talking about. “Indeed. Why don’t you join me in the study, Castiel? I’ll explain it all to you there.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Cas said.

What the fuck? 

“Come, Sam,” Naomi said, as she walked toward Castiel. “I found the information in an archive on Pall Mall.”

“Pall Mall?” Cas said. “Isn’t that a mythological place?”

“Not really,” Naomi said. She and Cas walked toward the door that led to his father’s study. Sammy looked miserable as he plodded behind Naomi like a whipped dog. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do with him?” Gordon shouted at Naomi’s back.

“Excuse me for a moment, Castiel,” Naomi said politely, then turned to Gordon. From across the room, she simply raised her hand and Gordon was immediately choking on air. “Dispose of him. Then, come join Castiel and I in the study.”

“Yes, My Lady,” Gordon stuttered through his fright. He stopped wheezing when Naomi let go of him and turned back to Castiel. 

“As I was saying, …” Naomi continued as though all was normal. Cas and Sammy followed her out of the throne room. 

The moment they moved past the door, Charlie stepped up behind Dean and he felt the restraints fall off his wrists. But he didn’t move his hands from their position behind his back. 

“Time to pay, Deano.” Gordon cackled, like a villain in a badly written story. 

Charlie slipped a blaster into the waistband of Dean’s pants and stepped back from him. 

Dean waited until Gordon looked him in the eyes to say, “I don’t think so, asshole,” and then whipped out the blaster from behind his back and shot Gordon in both knees. 

In a second, Gordon was on the floor and whining about his fucking knees. 

Dean, done with Gordon’s whining, glanced up at the throne but John Winchester had also disappeared. 

Charlie showed up at his elbow. “I’ll take care of him,” she said, sympathy oozing out of her. “You go get Sammy and your man back from that bitch.” 

Dean hated that he was so transparent to her but she was right. Sammy and Cas were the only ones who mattered and he was getting them back from Naomi even though he was pissed. 

He was pissed that he ever considered more with Cas. He was pissed that all it took was some words from Naomi and Cas followed her without question. 

Sammy had always been a very angry kid. The anger had only gotten worse when Sammy found out that their father had wanted Dean to kill him. 

They had run into Cas at a time when Dean was beginning to worry that the anger was going to get Sammy into a whole heap of trouble. 

Cas had helped Sammy to acknowledge the anger, to feel it and then to harness it in such a way that it didn’t hurt the people around him, especially Dean. 

One of Cas’ favourite things to say was, “Anger leads to hate and hate leads to the Dark side of the Force.” And the Dark side of the Force was where the Sith liked to dwell. 

Dean just hoped that Sammy remembered the things that Cas had taught them both to help with controlling their anger. They would both need to control their anger if they were to get out of this shit storm in one piece. 

Dean headed towards his father’s study at a run. The faster he could get there, the faster he could get Sammy and Cas out of Naomi’s clutches, the faster they could leave this fucking planet. 

He carefully pushed open the door to his father’s study enough so that he could see all the occupants. The room was as opulent as ever. It was also an eyesore. Gold glinted from everywhere and the color combinations just clashed as if a toddler had thrown all the colors into the room and then shook it. 

Forcing himself to focus on the occupants and not on the atrocious decor, he wasn’t surprised to see that Naomi had taken his father’s (throne like) chair behind the immense desk. Cas was standing at her right hand while Sammy was seated in one of the two chairs in front of the table, his back to the door. 

The thing that surprised him was the addition of Crowley. When did the guy get here and what was his role in all of this?

Sammy had what looked like a silver crown with a bunch of spokes coming out of it set on his head. 

Crowley was pulling and pushing the spokes in infinitesimal increments while he talked. His eyebrow rose when he noticed the door open and then he fucking winked at Dean. 

What the fuck?

“As I was saying,” Crowley continued, “the procedure, while quite simple, is also very delicate.” 

“How long will it take?” Naomi demanded. 

“Patience, darling,” Crowley purred. And ew, that was grosser somehow than when he flirted with Dean. “You don’t want me to rush a delicate procedure like this. We would end up with fried moose brains and then where would your glorious Sith Empire be, hmm?”

“I understand.” Naomi sounded put out. “Take your time. We need this done right the first time.”

Crowley turned back to Sammy and looked at Dean and winked again. 

The best case scenario was if Dean could get both Sammy and Cas, then they could all escape together. If however, he could only get Sammy out, then that is what he planned on doing. He’d just have to come back for Cas later. 

But then he noticed the fireplace move out and realized where John Winchester had got to. John had taken the secret tunnel from the throne room to the study and now Cas was in direct line of John’s blaster. 

Dean shoved open the door, and before John could get a clear shot at Cas, he shot John’s hand.

“You fucking shot my hand,” John wailed. 

Dean kept the gun pointed at John’s head as he walked toward him and then carefully kicked John’s blaster away from him. 

“You should be grateful I only shot your hand,” Dean growled at the pathetic excuse of a man that was his father. 

John began to move toward Cas again, and Dean said, “Don’t.”

“Or what?”

Really, Dean didn’t have the time to argue with John. He just shot him in the knee and turned toward Naomi.

“Let Sammy and Cas go,” Dean said, “and I’ll leave your knee caps intact.”

Naomi in turn tried to use her Sith mind trick on Dean but it had zero effect on him. 

“What is happening?”

“That would be my shields, lady.”

“Shields?” Naomi turned to Cas, enraged. “You taught him how to shield?”

Cas gave Dean a fond eye-smile. “Indeed. Dean is quite strong willed. Your Sith mind tricks won’t work on him.”

In the meantime, Crowley had somehow managed to release Sammy from the contraption on his head. He now stood behind Naomi and stuck a hypo in her neck. 

Naomi’s screech made everyone in the room wince. 

Crowley simply grinned at them as Naomi slid to the floor, unconscious. 

Dean shoved his blaster in the back of his pants again and headed for Sammy. Cas had the same idea because they both ended up on either side of Sammy and with a nod at each other, they each grabbed an arm. 

Sammy looked between the both of them and smiled. “Hey, Cas, Dean.”

“Heya, Sammy. You good to walk?”

“Sam. Not Sammy. Sammy is a chubby twelve year old.”

“To me, you’ll always be Sammy.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“I hate to interrupt this brotherly love fest, but I believe it is time to depart this bucolic planet.” Crowley chimed in. 

“What about Naomi?” 

Crowley had a terrible smile on his face. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about her.”

Whatever. Dean didn’t need to know. Sammy and Cas were safe and they were going home. That is all he needed to know. 

But it didn’t hurt to have friends in low places. And although unexpected, Crowley had really come through for them. 

“Thanks, Crowley.”

“My pleasure, Squirrel.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where this fic earns its Explicit rating. The beginning of the BDSM scene is explicitly indicated. Please heed the warning if you don't want to read an explicit BDSM scene.

“So,” Dean said, as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. 

“So,” Cas said, looking everywhere except at Dean, which Dean hated with a passion. 

The “eye fucking”, as Sammy called it when he wanted to tease Dean, was their thing, and not having Cas’ eyes on him made Dean antsy. 

“We should talk, yeah?”

“Yes. I believe so.”

“Mess?”

“Indeed.”

They headed to the mess in silence, Dean hyper aware of Cas behind him, Cas’ eyes a comforting weight on him. 

There was a platter of real meat burgers on the table so Dean grabbed himself a plate and made three for himself while Cas watched him fondly. 

Dean placed his plate on the table across from Cas. 

“Dean, come here,” Cas commanded, his voice impossibly deep. 

Dean felt almost dizzy with how fast the blood rushed to his groin. A commanding Cas was never going to get a mild reaction from him. Ever.

Cas pointed to the chair right next to him. 

Dean immediately moved towards the chair, placed his plate on the table and turned the chair so that he could watch Cas and eat at the same time. 

“Interesting,” Cas said.

But when Dean asked “What?” Cas didn’t elaborate. 

“So, the Emperor?” Dean said, before he stuffed his face with the delicious real-meat burger. 

“Yes,” Cas watched Dean eat with that fond look in his eyes again. “I told you about the Emperor’s psychic link after Sam was kidnapped.” 

Dean nodded his head, yes. He remembered that conversation. 

“Very well. Just before he died, the Emperor gave me a final command. To bring Sam to him, alive. But I didn’t know why.”

Yeah, the Emperor probably thought it was beneath him to explain to his pet assassins why he wanted them to do something so contrary to their usual job. 

“Once he was killed, as I told you before, the psychic link broke releasing all my memories. When Naomi found me, she wanted me to go on the hunt for Sam again. But I refused.” Cas’ eyes looked so lost, like he had been transported to an unhappy memory. “I was so tired, Dean. All I wanted to do was rest and numb the memories.” 

“Then I found you.”

“Indeed. And then you found me. I knew exactly who you were the moment I saw your face. After all, one of the first things Naomi had been instrumental in teaching me was to know everything about my target. In this case, I knew everything about Senator John Winchester, and his two sons, Dean and Samuel. 

But I also grew up with Naomi and so I knew some things about her as well. Naomi has a lot of strengths, she had to, to be able to run the Sith Academy. But if there was one thing Noami excelled at, it was persistence. I knew sooner or later she would find you and Sam. You would need someone to protect you.” 

“Me?” Dean said, through a mouthful of burger. “I thought you wanted to help Sammy with his headaches.” 

“Yes, you. You see, I had learned, during my research, of the oldest son and heir of Senator Winchester. After having seen the rank underbelly of most of the noble houses of the galaxy, you were the one outlier. An anomaly, if you will.” 

“Anomaly?”

“You left your life of power and position, of servants and luxury, and yes, good food, all because John Winchester asked you to kill your younger brother if you wanted to rule at his side.”

“Well, yeah.”

“In most noble houses, brothers kill each other for power all the time. But not you. And I had to know you, know why you had been so different. When offered the galaxy on a platter, you instead chose exile, and befriending pirates and smugglers.”

Well, when Cas put it that way, it did sound all kinds of fishy. 

“So, yes,” Cas continued, “I did intend to help Sam with his ‘headaches’ but I also wanted to know if you were truly as righteous as the rumors said.” 

Dean was sure his face was rivaling the heat of twin suns. 

“And so that’s why you came with us,” Dean said, through his embarrassment.

“Indeed,” Cas said. “And I found that the rumors were true, that you were truly as righteous as people said. And so I stayed. For you.” 

Dean was so surprised he put the burger in his hand down on the plate. “You stayed for me?” 

“Indeed,” Cas said, bashful all of a sudden. “You said that you loved me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Well, I must say that the feeling is completely mutual.” 

“What?” Dean croaked. Did Cas just say what Dean heard or was he hallucinating?

Cas turned to face him, and then carefully enunciated, “Dean, I am in love with you.” 

Holy shit!

Dean didn’t think he could smile any harder that he was right now without breaking his face. 

“Cas,” Dean said. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” 

Cas nodded his head and Dean threw himself at him, knowing Cas could support him. The chair Cas was sitting in toppled over backwards with the force of Dean’s sudden leap and then Dean was kissing Cas.

Holy fuck! 

Cas was kissing him back. 

Enthusiastically. 

Dean hoped he was projecting hard enough for Cas to feel how happy he was right now. 

After too short a time, Cas moved his mouth away. Dean whimpered from the loss. Cas had his hands on Dean’s face, and Cas looked deep into Dean’s eyes, and said, “Dean. Breathe. In, one, two, three. And out.”

Dean breathed in time with Cas’ words until finally his breathing was close to normal. Dean was still sprawled over Cas whose back was probably killing him since he was lying on the back of the chair he had been sitting on. 

Only Cas would make a love confession in the mess. 

Dean laughed and then scrambled off Cas. Once he was vertical, he lowered his hand to help Cas up.

The moment Cas was standing, he attached himself to Dean’s lips like he couldn’t get enough. 

Cas immediately took charge of the kiss. He pushed Dean backwards, toward the hatch that led to the corridors and the bunks. 

For such a badass, Cas had the softest lips. Dean had fantasized about kissing them, of course. But he hadn’t thought they would be this soft. They always looked so chapped and dry. And Cas was always licking them. Dean had always thought that they would be rough. 

Now that Cas had broken the chains of his self-restraint, his hands were everywhere. And Dean loved it. 

Cas stopped them along the bulkhead whenever he wanted to kiss Dean deeper, his tongue a hot brand that left a mark inside Dean’s mouth, staking Cas’ claim. 

Which Dean and Little Dean were both completely on board with. 

At one point during their fumbling in the corridor, Cas grumbled, “Too many layers.”

Dean laughed at how the stoic guy he had known for three years seemed to have completely lost his cool in the face of access to Dean’s body. Cas shut him up in the best way, by re-introducing his hot tongue into Dean’s mouth and making sure to caress each crevice vigorously. 

Cas all but dragged Dean into his bunk. Even before the door had slid closed, Cas slammed Dean up against the wall hard enough that Dean was sure he would have bruises on his back come morning. 

“I would like to try something.” Each word was followed by a kiss on his forehead, his eye lids, his cheeks and his lips in succession.

“Anything,” Dean said. 

Cas pulled away from Dean to look at him closely. Dean did not whimper at the loss. 

“You had a thought when we first met and you didn’t have the shielding capacity that you do now.”

Dean nodded and at the same time tried to kiss up Cas’ neck. But Cas was having none of it. He still held onto Dean’s hips but he moved his torso further away. 

“I’d like to give that to you.” Cas let go of Dean’s hips and stepped a couple of paces away. Dean did his best to keep standing and not slump down to the floor. 

{Author’s Note: Begin BDSM scene}

“What is your safe word?” Cas’ question made both Dean and Little Dean perk up.

“Green for go, yellow for pause and discuss, and red for stop.” 

“Very well. Undress, please.” 

Dean immediately began to take off his clothes. He had never been shy about exposing his body. He had been told numerous times that he had a gorgeous body and he was so fucking ready for Cas to see all of him.

Cas, however, turned away from Dean to pull open a drawer under his bunk bed. 

Dean was curious as to what Cas was retrieving. But if this went like he had imagined so many times in the past, then Cas was going to tell him exactly how they were going to do this. Dean could wait. 

Dean had pulled on his favorite blue satin panties this morning. They were his go to on days he knew were going to be a disaster. The fact that they exactly matched Cas’ eyes has no significance whatsoever. 

When Cas turned around and saw him, his eyes were blown wide with desire until only a dark, navy blue ring was visible.

“Leave them,” Cas said, his voice deeper than usual. 

Dean shivered in appreciation. 

“When we first met, you had a thought that you nearly threw at me. I have always remembered that. I would like to give that to you today.” 

Dean had so many lascivious thoughts about Cas throughout the years that he had no idea what Cas was talking about. Having one of his fantasies coming to life? Hell, yeah. Sign him up. 

“Do you understand?”

“I understand, Sir.” Dean tried out the honorary title but it was missing something. 

Cas seemed to like it though. “Very well,” Cas said, and the transformation from bashful to commanding was as hot as it was instantaneous. “Kneel.”

Dean immediately knelt trying his best not to wince. 

Cas just looked at the metal floor with consideration, and mumbled, “Knee pads.” And then, “I bought this for you,” Cas said. 

Cas offered the wooden box he had retrieved from the drawer under his bed to Dean. The box was beautiful, handmade by the looks of it, made of real wood with beautiful swirls carved all over the top of it. Dean took it and looked at Cas for permission to open it.

The permission wasn’t long in coming. “Open it.”

Inside the box, lying on red velvet was a gorgeous brown leather collar. Dean swallowed harshly and did his best to keep from coming right then and there. 

“You may bring this to me when you want to play,” Cas said. “And you may remove it at any time and all play will cease immediately.”

Dean swiped a finger across the softest thing he had touched in a long, long time. 

“Turn it over,” Cas said. 

Dean did so to find that the other side was firmer to the touch. However, what caught his attention were the words printed using a heat source of some kind. 

_My baby boy._

Dean was gonna wear this all the fucking time. “Master,” Dean breathed out. 

Cas jerked like someone just hit him with a blaster at full capacity. His eyes were dark with his desire and his hands descended on Dean’s shoulders, his fingertips clutching at Dean so tight he was sure they were going to leave bruises. 

“Put it on me, please, Master.” Dean took the collar out of the box, gently placed the box on the floor next to his right knee and extended the hand holding the collar out to Cas. 

Cas immediately snapped to his commanding persona, “Color.” 

“Green, Sir,” Dean said. 

Cas took the collar from him, set it around his neck and fastened the buckle to tighten it until it rested snug against Dean’s throat. Cas then tested the fit by running a finger around the inside of it. 

Cas took a long, deep breath, and then said, “For inspection you will kneel like this, with your hands behind your back and your eyes on the ground in front of you.” 

Dean took in a swift breath and did as he was told. 

Cas walked around him like a commander inspecting his troops and adjusted Dean’s posture slightly.

“Very good, baby boy.” 

Dean tried his best not to whimper at the thrill that shot through him at those words. At this rate, he would come from Cas’ words alone. 

“Crawl to the bed,” Cas’ said. 

Dean crawled the few inches to the bed and waited there on his knees facing the bed for Cas’ next command. Almost immediately there was a hand in his hair and a line of heat at his back as Cas slotted himself behind Dean. 

“Good boy.” 

Dean did his best not to weep with want. He wasn’t sure if it was the hand in his hair or the words but together they were the best thing ever. 

Dean wanted more of it. Dean wanted all of it. Dean just wanted. Plain and simple. 

Suddenly Cas’ body heat left him and Dean did his best not to whimper. From the rustling going on behind him, it looked like Cas was searching for something in one of the drawers. 

A line of heat at his back proclaimed Cas’ return. Cas placed a vibrator and its remote control on the bed in front of Dean, with its panel face up so that Dean could see all the levels on it. Next to that, he placed a pair of cuffs and a bottle of lube. 

Dean wasn’t too sure about the cuffs but the vibrator and the lube were encouraging. 

Cas pulled off the gray blanket from the bed and threw it at the chair across the room. He then moved the pillows from the headboard to the middle of the bed. Cas went back to his drawers and returned with two towels which he layered on top of the pillows. 

“Onto the bed. Lie down on your back with your hands over your head and your hips on the pillows.” 

Dean scrambled up onto the bed and immediately complied with Cas’ instructions. 

“Good boy.”

Cas dragged his fingers through Dean’s hair, then released him to pick up the cuffs from the bed. He fastened the cuffs onto Dean’s wrists, then pulled something from the wall behind Dean’s head and attached that to the cuffs. 

“Comfortable?” 

Dean jerked his wrists. He was well and truly restrained, and he loved it. “Yes, Master.” Dean said and relaxed into the bed. 

Cas climbed onto the bed and made himself comfortable between Dean’s knees, pushing them apart to make room for himself. 

Cas then put one hand on the bed next to his arm, and leaned over to kiss him again, pushing his tongue deep into Dean’s mouth. Dean moaned as he did his best to keep up but Cas was overwhelming his senses in the best of ways. 

Cas released his mouth and Dean nearly rose off the bed, tried to chase after him, wanted more. 

“Insatiable. I like it.”

Then Cas opened the lube and squeezed a generous puddle onto his palm. He shut the lube and put it down on the small table next to the bed. Then he took the vibrator and smeared the lube all over it. 

“I want to take my time opening you up.” 

Dean whined. He wasn’t sure he was gonna last if Cas did that. Might have to get him a cock ring or something to keep him from coming. 

“But I don’t think I will last if I do that today. Maybe another time.” 

Dean just nodded, relieved. He would love to play with control with Cas but not today. Today all Dean wanted was for Cas to pound his ass as hard and fast as he could. 

Once Cas was done smearing the lube on the vibrator, he wiped his hand on one of the towels under Dean. Then he used one hand to pull his panties aside and the other to rub the wet vibrator against Dean’s dry hole. Dean wasn’t sure that was gonna work but he was willing to try for Cas’ sake. 

“Color?” 

Hopefully, Cas couldn’t feel Dean’s trepidation. 

“Green. Definitely green, Master.” 

Cas took his time carefully pressing the vibrator into Dean’s dry hole until he had smeared it well with the lube. 

Of course, Dean stretched himself on a similarly sized dildo on an almost every day basis. If he didn’t, he would be walking about with a boner all day long given his close proximity to Cas and the confined quarters on the Impala. 

It wasn’t long before Dean’s muscles relaxed enough for the vibrator to slide into his hole. Cas moved it back and forth, back and forth, in a move that reminded Dean of being scissored open, giving Dean the time he needed to get used to the stretch. 

Then Cas began pushing the vibrator deeper in small increments. In and out, in and out. 

Dean wasn’t sure how long he lay there, his hands curled into fists, pulling his arms just to feel the burn in his muscles, wishing Cas would stop teasing him and just get on with it already.

Once Cas had the vibrator all the way in Dean, it didn’t take him long to find Dean’s prostate. 

Commanding Dean to “Stay still,” Cas adjusted the pillows under him until the vibrator was grazing his prostate, teasing him even more. 

Cas then slid out of the bed and used the remote to turn the vibrator on. 

The sudden vibration sent tingles through Dean’s body. God, he wanted to move. If he moved just a smidge, then he’d be able to get the vibrator where he needed it the most. But just in the nick of time, he remembered Cas’ command not to move. 

Fuck. 

Instead he whined.

Cas just looked at him for a moment, probably waiting for Dean to break. When Dean just lay there, taking the vibration without moving a single muscle, Cas said, “Very good, baby boy.” 

Cas set the remote at the foot of the bed and then began to toe off his boots and his socks. 

Then Cas pressed a button on the remote increasing the frequency of the vibrations up another notch. 

Dean wanted so badly to squirm on the bed and he wished Cas hadn’t commanded him to stay still because if he was squirming or humping the air then it would distract him from the fact that he desperately needed some friction on his neglected cock.

Cas shrugged out of his tunic, then increased the vibration again. And repeated his action after he got rid of his pants as well. 

Dean was doing his best not to move a muscle but he had a feeling that his control wasn’t gonna last much longer. 

Cas was only left in a sleeveless under tunic and a pair of shorts that did nothing to hide the size of his boner. God, Dean wanted to get his mouth on that huge cock and choke on it. 

With Cas being so dominant, the vibrator sitting so close to his prostate and having Cas strip for him, Dean was getting closer and closer to coming. 

“Do not come until I give you permission.” 

And somehow that made Dean relax for the first time since Cas started the vibrator. Now that he had a specific command, he knew he could handle whatever Cas threw at him. 

“Let me know when you get close to coming.”

“Yes, Master,” Dean said. “I’m close now.”

Cas immediately turned down the vibrator and Dean relaxed back into the bed, breathing harshly through his mouth. 

Cas stripped off his under tunic and underpants without any hesitation, finally giving Dean an unobstructed view of his cock. Dean sucked in a hard breath at the sight of the beautiful, almost-purple head and at its size. 

“Please, Master.” Dean wasn’t sure what he wanted more. To get his mouth on that gorgeous cock or to have Cas fuck him with the thing.

Either would be good but he had a feeling that both would be better.

Cas climbed back onto the bed and straddled his chest, his cock bobbing tantalizingly close. Dean licked his lips in anticipation.

“Fuck.” At Cas’ curse, Dean looked into his eyes. “Like what you see, baby boy?”

“Yes, Master.” At any other time Dean would be embarrassed at how eager he sounded but right now, Dean didn’t give a fuck. 

All he wanted was to choke on Cas’ gorgeous cock. 

Cas seemed to be on the same page because all of a sudden the vibrator came to life in his ass again. And then Cas was kneeling on the bed, rubbing his cock head against Dean’s lips, smearing pre-come on them. 

“So gorgeous like this, baby boy. Beautiful.” 

Dean so badly wanted to open his mouth but Cas hadn’t ordered him to do so, so he bit his lower lip to keep himself from doing it in his eagerness. 

The approval in Cas’ eyes told him that he’d made the right choice. 

“So good for me, baby boy. Do you know what happens to baby boys who are good for their Masters?”

Dean shook his head, back and forth, in a “No,” gesture, afraid that if he opened his mouth to answer, he was going to take a swipe at that gorgeous cock with his tongue and try to get it stuffed into his mouth as soon as possible. 

“They get their reward. Open up now, baby boy.”

Dean immediately opened his mouth as wide as he could get it but he knew that Cas was bigger than anything he had taken before. The stretch was delicious as Cas pushed his cock into Dean’s mouth. Dean moaned as it hit the back of his throat. 

Yes. This was what he needed. 

Cas turned the vibrator back up to the previous setting and continued to slowly and carefully fuck in and out of Dean’s mouth.

With his hands bound and his mouth occupied, Dean tried to send a focused thought to Cas to indicate that he would appreciate a good face fucking right about now. 

Dean didn’t know if that worked or if Cas was just so in tune with him or if Cas finally decided that that was what he wanted, but all of a sudden Cas went from slow and careful to shoving his cock down Dean’s throat. 

Dean moaned as his gag reflex was activated by the sudden shove and then made sure to make eye contact with Cas to let him know to continue.

“Fuck, you like that,” Cas looked as desperate to come as Dean felt. “I’m going to fuck your face now, baby boy.” 

Dean moaned his agreement with Cas’ plan. 

Cas immediately picked up his pace and began fucking his face ruthlessly, one hand on the wall behind him and the other pulling at Dean’s hair to make him stay where he wanted him. 

Soon Dean was a slobbering mess, saliva being pushed out of his mouth as Cas pushed his huge cock in. Dean did his best to keep his eyes open but with the stretch and the ferocious pounding Cas was giving him, his eyes were watering and the tears rolled down his cheeks. 

“Fuck, baby boy. So fucking good.”

Cas looked even more wrecked when Dean carefully opened his eyes to look at him. What with the vibrator in his ass, the vigorous face fucking and the swearing coming from Cas, Dean was almost sure he was going to be unable to stop himself from coming. 

Cas definitely was good at reading though because all of a sudden Cas stopped fucking his mouth and turned the vibrator down back to its lowest setting. 

Cas just sat there for a moment, his cock still rammed down Dean’s throat and stretching his lips deliciously, his forehead against the wall above Dean’s head as he caught his breath. 

Then Cas pulled out of his mouth. Dean was unable to stop his whimper from escaping his throat. 

“Shh, baby boy,” Cas said. “I’ll take care of you.”

Cas slid back until he was kneeling between Deans thighs again. He pulled the vibrator out of Dean’s ass and pushed his girth into him in its place. 

Dean wailed from the stretch and the heat from Cas’ cock. “Gonna come, Master. Please. Gonna come.” 

“You have my permission to come but only while I’m fucking you with my cock,” Cas said. 

Now that he had permission to come, Dean realized that for the first time in a long time he was gonna come without being touched. 

Cas set a brutal pace, nailing Dean’s prostate with precision on each thrust.

Dean just held on for the ride, using his arms to give him some leverage as Cas continued to pound into him.

“So good, baby boy,” Cas said. “So beautiful.” 

And then Cas gave a couple of vicious thrusts against Dean’s prostate and that was all she wrote for Dean. His vision whited out and then he was coming on his stomach. 

When Dean came to himself, Cas was still going but his hips were stuttering, his pace erratic and he kept saying Dean’s name as if he couldn’t think of any other words anymore. Hot cum painted him on the inside and Dean wished he was ten years younger so he could come again. 

Cas collapsed on Dean, his forehead on Dean’s shoulder, his weight a comfort that Dean would never give up. 

“Sir,” Dean said. 

“Mmm.” 

“The cuffs, Sir.” 

“Right,” Cas said, and leaned over Dean to release his hand from the cuffs. 

Dean immediately moved them to Cas’ face, cupped his hands around his cheeks and gently pulled Cas’ face to him so that he could press his lips against Cas’. 

“Thank you, Master.” Dean smoothed his hands down Cas’ back.

Cas squinted at him. “Thank you, baby boy.” He flopped back onto Dean’s chest again. 

Dean should get up and get them a washcloth or something. That cum was gonna dry and be crusty in no time, but he was feeling too good. 

Fuck it. The washcloth could wait. 

He still needed to ask Cas to stay with them for always but that could wait for the morning.

Dean finally had what he wanted for three long years and he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. He tightened his arms around Cas as he followed Cas into a deep sleep.


End file.
